


Vera

by whump_tr0pes



Series: Honor Bound Universe [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Beating, Brainwashing, Captivity, Choking, Collars, Conditioning, Dehumanization, Dissociation, Double Penetration, Enemies to Friends, Eventual Happy Ending, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Honor Bound, Hurt/Comfort, Knives, Memory Loss, Mind Games, Mutual Non-Con, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Prequel, Punishment, Rape, Rough Oral Sex, Torture, Vaginal Fingering, Whipping, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 39
Words: 98,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22166821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whump_tr0pes/pseuds/whump_tr0pes
Summary: Fourteen years before the events of Honor Bound, Gavin's father kidnapped and tortured Vera for nearly three months.
Series: Honor Bound Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595560
Comments: 37
Kudos: 135
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	1. Handcuffed/manacled

**Author's Note:**

> Just like with Honor Bound, chapter titles will refer to prompts inspiring each chapter.

The city was vibrating with tension.

Everyone felt it, whether they admitted it or not. They felt the humming in the ground, the sharp crackling flavor of the air, like it might combust if someone moved too fast. The skyscrapers didn’t serve as fingers reaching into the sky anymore. They loomed over the city, spreading shadows like blankets.

People were afraid. The fear came out in a million little ways: whispers at home, hoping the kids wouldn’t hear the tension in the words. Declined invitations to go out, have fun, expose themselves to the dangers of the world. People who would never raise a hand to their neighbor starting to carry weapons, tucked awkwardly in their jackets. People didn’t walk alone.

Vera did, though. She preferred it. Three weeks, she’d been living a lie. Three weeks undercover. Alone was good. Alone gave her time to clear her head. She smirked. _What are they gonna do, mug me?_ She shook her head. _Yeah, probably._ It was nothing compared to what would be done to her if she were ever found out. Somehow she couldn’t be scared of a little petty crime when she was clawing her way into the underbelly of the city’s criminal activity.

It gave her an uncomfortable sensation of…not apathy, but what comes just before that. Nihilism, maybe. If she were found out, if someone discovered that she wasn’t some civilian wanting to join a drug ring for money, or power, or safety, or whatever fucking reason people joined drug rings, they’d do worse than just beat her and take her money. They’d tear her apart.

When she was alone, she could be herself. When she was alone, she could be a cop, scared as hell but determined to do her job, wanting nothing more than to find out exactly why organized crime seemed to have skyrocketed in the past few years so she could come home.

She tightened her jacket around her and walked faster. _I need to meet with you. Usual place._ That’s all the text had said. Her usual point of contact, Mike, had been her in. They’d known each other years and years ago as kids in school and had not spoken since. When his mugshot had appeared in one of the briefings for this post, she’d breathed a sigh of relief. _I’ll have an in. Someone who knows me. That’s the start of trust._

She turned a corner, walked a block, turned another. Two more blocks. With a glance behind her she disappeared down an alley, hands stuffed deep in her pockets. She swallowed hard. She hated this part. The lying. The being someone else so completely.

A shadow moved behind a dumpster to her left, their regular meeting place. She pushed down her fear, her disgust. Her hatred. _If this is what it takes to bring them all down, I’ll do it._ She forced her voice to be steady. “Hey, Mike. What have you got?” She moved close to him, bodies almost touching. Even in the near-dusk shadow of the alley she still felt exposed.

His hand wrapped around her wrist. She felt a distant chill run down the back of her neck. Her stomach clenched. _This is not how this is supposed to go._ She pulled back slowly. Dread swept through her like a crashing wave as his grip only tightened.

“Mike…” Her voice was shaking. “What’s going on?”

He pulled her into him until she was pressed against his chest. She trembled at the feel of his breath on her face. “You been playing me, Vera?”

Her body locked into an icy panic. “N-no…” she whispered. “No…I swear to god, I’m not…”

His hand tightened around her wrist until it ached. She pulled away harder. “Really?” In the dim light she could tell he was grinning. “Because I think you’re playing me. I think you’re a fucking cop.”

She grabbed his wrist and twisted it down, breaking his hold on her and forcing him to his knees. Her hand flew to her waistband. _You don’t have handcuffs, you_ idiot. She kicked him in the ribs, sending him flying against the side of the dumpster. She turned to run.

Her heart dropped as she realized there was someone standing in the alley not twenty feet from her, blocking her escape the way she had come. She turned to run the other direction. Her breath stopped in her chest as she saw another figure blocking her other way out. Her hands curled into fists.

They moved towards her at the same time. She backed up against the wall, head snapping left and right as she tried to keep both figures in her field of vision. Mike was groaning on the ground, trying to get to his feet. She dragged in a deep inhale, forced out a slow exhale.

The man on her right reached her first. She didn’t hesitate. She exploded away from the wall with a desperate punch. It connected with the man’s cheek. He dropped to one knee. She felt a hand clamp down on the collar of her jacket. She spun, driving her elbow into the other man’s stomach. He grunted and fell back a step.

Mike was back on his feet. He pulled a knife from his pocket and flicked it open. She watched the dim glint of the metal as he advanced on her. He slashed at her stomach. She flew backwards, barely clearing the blade. He aimed a thrust at her chest. She nearly tripped over herself as she sidestepped it.

A hand caught her by the hair and dragged her backwards. She lost her footing and stumbled back, swinging another elbow at her attacker. He dodged it and shoved her to the ground.

She hit the cement hard. It knocked the air out of her and she lay still for a moment, stunned. She dragged in a breath.

A kick connected with her side. She screamed and curled away from it, pulling her knees into her chest and throwing her arms over her head to shield herself. _NEVER LET A FIGHT GO TO THE GROUND,_ she could hear screaming inside her head. _GET UP. NEVER LET A FIGHT GO TO THE GROUND._ She rolled to her stomach and pushed herself up on her elbows, gasping.

A boot landed on her back, forcing her back down to the ground. She writhed under it, throwing wild blows back at the man pinning her down. He knelt, his knee crushing into her lower back. She cried out. She felt strong hands trap one wrist, forcing her arm behind her. Then the other. She bucked under the man’s weight as she felt and heard a zip tie being tightened around her wrists.

“Please,” she sobbed. “Please, I’m not a cop, I’m not a _fucking_ cop, I swear to god…” She grunted as her face was shoved against the concrete, the man’s other hand pinning her hands against her back, and still that crushing weight on her back. She choked on her tears. “I don’t know who fucking told you that, I’m not a cop…please…”

Mike scrambled to his knees beside her and held the knife to her throat. She cried out and strained against the hand in her hair, holding her in place. “We don’t fucking believe you.”

“No no no _please…please…_ I don’t know what you’re talking about, _please_ …”

She heard the click of footsteps approach and a quiet _hey boss._ She stiffened as the weight on her back increased.

The footsteps stopped beside her. She tried to turn her head to see who had approached, but the hand in her hair forced her face harder against the pavement. “This is the cop?” The man’s voice was low and calm.

“Yes, sir.” Mike’s voice sounded…uneasy.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes sir. I know it’s her.”

A pause. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

 _“Fuck you,”_ she spat through her teeth. She heaved out a desperate sob as she felt the cold barrel of a gun press against the back of her head.

“Wait, Matthew. I didn’t give instructions to kill her.”

“Sorry, sir.” The cold metal disappeared.

She heard gravel crunch as the man walked around where she’d been pinned to the ground and into her field of vision. He knelt in front of her, surveying her with an almost amused expression. He reached out and drew one finger down the side of her face. She shuddered at the soft touch. “I’m going to ask you again, sweetheart. What’s your name?”

She pressed her lips together and glared up at him. “It’s Vera, sir,” Mike volunteered. The man fixed him with a stare and he withered under it.

“Vera, then.” He took a moment, deliberating. Then he stood. “I’m keeping her.

“…keeping her, sir?”

“Yes.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a canvas bag. “Put that on her. Get her to my car. It’s parked just at the other end of this alley.”

“Yes…sir.” Mike pulled the bag over her head. She was wrestled to her feet.

 _“No.”_ She threw herself blindly to the side, vague shapes spinning in her vision. The hands nearly lost their grip on her. A fist crashed into her stomach. She grunted, went limp for a moment, sagged against the hands that held her up. They began to drag her to the car.

 _“PLEASE,”_ she screamed. _“Someone help me, PLEASE._ ”

“You want me to gag her, sir?”

A chuckle. “No. I promise, no one is going to stop us. And besides… I like hearing her beg.”

Vera could swear she felt a shudder run through one of her captors. Shadows and light passed through the bag over her head and she felt herself being pressed up against the side of a car. A hand on her back pushed her forward and pinned her against it. She felt rough hands on her pockets, her waistband, the pants of her legs. “She’s clean, boss.”

“Excellent. Get her in the trunk.”

“No…” She yanked against the hands that pulled her away from the car. “What the fuck do you want from me? I don’t know anything… I’m not a _fucking_ cop, you piece of _shit_ …”

That same chuckle. “She’s got a mouth on her. That’ll be my first priority.”

She felt the rear bumper of the car press against her shins. “Priority…what the _fuck_ …no, _fuck you_ , get the _fuck_ off me!” She was shoved forward and she pitched headlong into the trunk. With her hands bound behind her, she couldn’t catch herself as she fell. She landed hard on her shoulder. Before she could kick at the men, the trunk slammed closed.

She was plunged into darkness. She felt of roiling wave of nausea as the car started and began to pull away. _He’s taking me to a second location, that means whatever he’s going to do to me takes time, privacy, oh my god, oh my god he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me and it’s gonna_ hurt _…_ She twisted herself onto her side, her heart thundering in the cramped space of the trunk. _Gotta get free, gotta kick out a brake light…_ She thought of her handler, Christopher. _If I don’t check in with him in a week he’s going to know something’s wrong._ She shivered. _What if he wants to kill me sooner than a week?_

Tears pooled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She steeled herself and curled in on herself, moving her bound hands down her back, around her hips. She strained against the zip tie as it bit into her wrists. Her chest caught in a panic as her hands got stuck for a moment. She arched her back harder and her hands moved under her legs. She pulled them out one at a time and immediately yanked the bag off her head. It did nothing to improve her sight in the blackness of the trunk, but she felt like she could breathe better. She took in a deep inhale, held it, blew out a slow exhale.

She felt around the back of the trunk and located one of the taillights. She maneuvered herself around and kicked at it, hard. It punched loose of its housing and spun away into the street. She rolled forward and pressed her face against the hole she had made.

They were moving down a busy street, maybe heading south, she thought. She logged the information away. Then she shoved her hands through the small hole in the trunk and reached out of the trunk as far as she could, careful to keep her hands out of the view of the rear view mirrors.

The wind was cold on her hands as they moved. She tried to look through to the outside to see if anyone had seen her. _He said no one would stop him. Would someone really mind their own business if they see someone in a trunk?_ She felt a shudder ripple through her shoulders. _Have we been deluding ourselves? Have things really gotten that bad?_

The car slowed down to take a corner and jostled her to the side. _Heading…east now?_ It drove that direction for a few more minutes before taking a left. _South again._ The street sounded quieter. She pulled her hands into the trunk and peered out. There were fewer cars on the road now. She swallowed hard and reached out through the hole again.

The car slowed down to take another right and she felt the bump as it pulled into a driveway. She withdrew her hands again to look out. She watched an iron gate close behind them as the car pulled up the short driveway. _They can afford a house with a gate and an actual_ driveway _in this city. Maybe it isn’t just organized crime. Maybe we’re dealing with a crime_ family. The car rolled to a stop. The air froze in her lungs.

She felt the bounces as each person left the car. She rolled onto her back and positioned her legs near the lid of the trunk. When they opened it, she would be ready. She heard footsteps move around the car to stop in front of the trunk. She was coiled into herself, ready to kick.

The trunk opened and she was blind for a moment. She kicked desperately and felt her foot connect. She heard a grunt. Her mouth twisted into a satisfied smirk.

Then the world dissolved into jagged pain. Her body locked into an agonizing spasm. Her muscles were on fire. She could breathe for one second, two, three…

Then it was over. She slumped back into the trunk, chest heaving with gasps. _They tased me._ She burned with rage. She felt hands locking around her arms and pulling her from the trunk.

“Oh, sweetheart. So clever, getting your hands in front of you. And my taillight… Damn.” The man approached her as she sagged between the men holding her up. His eyes sparkled with a bizarre sort of interest that made her stomach lurch. “I am going to have _so much_ fun with you.”

She spat in his face. He reeled back, scrubbing his face with his sleeve. He was laughing. “Take her downstairs. I’ll be right behind you.”

They dragged her up the front steps. The door was visible from the sidewalk. Someone could still see her, someone could try to help…

 _“No!”_ she screamed. “Someone help, _please!_ ” The door slammed shut behind her.

They dragged her across the foyer, tastefully decorated and sterile in its comfort. She was starting to get some control over her muscles as they reached a hallway with doors on each side. She weakly pulled away from them as they opened the door at the end and began to force her down the stairs.

She threw her weight into one of the men. He pitched to the side, clearly not expecting it. She drove her shoulder into the other man, momentarily pinning him against the wall in the stairway. She spun away from them and turned to dash up the stairs. A hand yanked her backwards by the hair and she tumbled down several steps before they caught her and continued to drag her down. They kept a much firmer hold on her as they went.

They reached the bottom of the staircase. She shuddered to see a shorter hall with a single door. It was reinforced and had a heavy metal bolt on it. She threw herself against the men holding her. One of them drove his fist into her stomach and she doubled over, vision momentarily going white. They dragged her into the room and threw her to the ground.

She coughed weakly, gagging against the nausea that rose in her. She raised her head to look around her the room and cried out weakly in horror.

Dozens of instruments of torture hung on the walls. Knives, whips, canes, restraints, so many things that Vera would never have imagined taking to a human being, and they were all hanging neatly from hooks like they were tools in someone’s garage. She shuddered, tears of terror blurring her vision. She shook so badly she could barely sit up. A hand tangled in her hair and forced her back down onto the ground. She sobbed as her face was held against the floor.

Those footsteps again. The man entered the room, hands clasped in front of him in excitement. “Thank you, gentlemen. One more thing and you can go.” He walked to the wall and took down two sets of simple handcuffs. “Get her up, please.” She was yanked up from the ground and forced to her knees. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Hold her hands.” Strong hands locked around her wrists and forced her hands up, presenting them to the man. She pulled against the grasp, gasping out each sob. The man clicked the handcuffs around her wrists and looked around. He pointed. “Over here, please.” She was dragged a few feet further into the room. He locked one end of the other set of handcuffs around the chain linking her hands together and the other onto an anchor that had been bolted into the floor. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed in despair. “Thank you. You may go.” The two men walked to the door and left with an almost desperate haste. The man finally turned to Vera, chained to the floor and weeping bitterly.

“Please…” she whispered. “Please…don’t do this, I’m not a cop…please…”

A hand went to her face and stroked her cheek, wiping away the tears there. “Oh, sweetheart. You can deny it if you want to. I will get the truth out of you at some point. But that’s not my priority right now. No. All I want from you…” He gently cupped her chin in his hand. “…is for you to be good for me. Can you do that?”

Disgust curled in her stomach. “Good? What…what the fuck is wrong with you…”

His hand shot out and cracked across her face. She fell back, stunned. “First rule,” he murmured, drawing close to her again. “Never speak without permission.”


	2. Kick them while they are down

"First rule," he murmured. His breath was warm on her face. She shuddered. "Never speak without permission." 

_"Fuck y-"_

His hand crashed against her face. She fell hard onto her shoulder, her head ringing from the blow. Her wrists strained against the cuffs shackling her to the floor. "Never speak without permission," he repeated evenly. 

_"Fuck - "_ He aimed a punch at her stomach. She grunted and curled up against the blow. 

"Never speak without permission," he repeated. 

She gagged and heaved in a desperate breath. _"Fuck - "_ He kicked her in the back while she was still down on the floor. Her cry of pain was forced out of her. 

"Never speak without permission."

She was sobbing raggedly. _"Fuck - "_ He seized her hair and jerked her head back. She cut herself off with a strangled cry. He dragged her, pulling her wrists tight against the cuffs until they dug into the skin. She twisted, trying to relieve the terrible strain that was starting to tear the skin of her wrists. 

His hand only tightened in her hair as he kneeled down beside her. His voice remained as smooth as ever. "Never speak without permission."

She whimpered. "No..." So this is how it would start. He'd take her voice away, her defiance. "You can't - "

He pressed his hand down over the handcuffs on her wrists. She writhed and screamed under the weight as he increased the pressure, the cuffs crushing into her bones, tearing the skin. His other hand remained fisted in her hair. "Never speak without permission."

Vera bared her teeth at him. "So this is what you do? You - ah!" He twisted her hair viciously. She whined out a sob. "You want me to be _good_ , you perverted sack of shit, you - " Her voice rose into another scream as he leaned his weight over her wrists. Her throat felt raw already from screaming. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you, get the _fuck_ off me..." She kicked uselessly at the ground. She didn't have the leverage to pull away, to throw his hands off her. She whimpered. 

His voice was so calm. Gentle, almost. He leaned over her, his lips almost brushing her ear. "All you're doing is prolonging your suffering, Vera. Be good for me. Never speak without permission." 

"Go _fuck yourse-"_ Her mind went blank with revulsion as he pressed his lips against her exposed shoulder, the shirt twisted aside in her desperate struggle. 

He opened his mouth and bit her.

Her mouth dropped open into a ragged scream as he sunk his teeth into her flesh. She squeezed her eyes shut as she writhed under him, her mind fracturing into so many jagged pieces of pain and terror. _"No!"_ she sobbed. "Get the _fuck_ off me, you mother _fucker_ , no!" Her throat closed around her scream. 

She shuddered and gagged as he smoothed his tongue over the broken skin. She sobbed out her horror, her revulsion, the absolute rebellion of her body at the agony and violation of the pain, the weight on top of her, the scrape of the man's teeth as he moved his mouth up the curve of her neck to her jaw.

His hand lifted from her wrists and she moaned with relief. His fingers went to curve under her chin. He tilted her head up to him with his other hand still clutching her hair. She squeezed her eyes closed, shutting out the sight of him, at least. That much, she could do. His breath fanned out over her face and she cried out weakly. 

"Open your eyes, Vera." Tears leaked out from her tightly closed eyes. He wrenched her head to the side and she whimpered. His voice pitched lower, almost in a growl. "Open your eyes. Now."

She surrendered that little bit. Her eyes fluttered open. He made a noise deep in his throat when he saw the terror there. “Good. Now. Never speak without permission.”

Her furious retort died on her lips. _Would it be so bad to just not hurt for a moment? He’s not making me_ do _anything, just…telling me_ not _to do something._

His hand relaxed and he smoothed it threw her hair. “There. That wasn’t so hard. Good girl.”

She spat in his face again.

His hand shot out and caught her throat in a vicious grip. She gasped and shuddered as he tightened his hand around her throat. “Please…” she croaked. He pressed down and closed off her airway.

Panic dumped into her blood like poison, hot, burning away all other thoughts. She writhed beneath his hands, eyes wide and streaming, kicking against the ground, pulling uselessly against the handcuffs that held her down, trying desperately to breathe around his hand as he took away her air, smiling down at her, always smiling, gentle and quiet. She convulsed in a silent sob and her vision began to tunnel. _He’s going to kill me._

Then his hand was gone. She heaved a shuddering gasp and coughed until she was gagging. Tears ran into her hair as she cried, rolling away from him, trying to hide from his gaze. He put a soft hand on her cheek and turned her face back towards him.

“There.” His other hand was soft in her hair. “Be a good girl for me, Vera. Never speak without permission.”

Her voice felt like it had been crushed out of her. She opened her mouth to spit out a hateful _fuck you._ Her voice broke and she fell silent.

He smiled at her. “Good girl. Such a good girl. Rule number two: you may only eat or sleep when I tell you to.”

Her eyes closed and she pressed her temple against the floor. _“Please,”_ she croaked.

Her head snapped to the side as he struck her. She saw stars for a moment. “Vera, you were being so good. Do not forget rule number one. Now. One of my men is going to come down here and hurt you tonight. He’s going to help me break you in. You are not to fall asleep while he’s here, do you understand?” He waited for her to respond. “Answer me, Vera. You have permission.”

She lay silently on the floor, tears rolling down her face. She pressed her lips together into a thin line.

“Vera,” he growled. “Answer me. Right now. Do you understand that you are not to fall asleep tonight?” The gentle hand in her hair tightened into a fist. He dragged her towards him until their faces were almost touching. _“Answer. Me.”_

Hatred clawed its way up her throat as she met his eyes. _“Fuck you.”_

All the warmth ran out of his eyes and his lips pulled into a sneer. “I do enjoy a challenge, Vera. But you are testing my patience.” He threw her down onto the floor and stalked to the wall. His hands moved through the air over his tools before he made his choice. Vera’s eyes widened.


	3. Whipping

The man’s hand curled lovingly around the handle of a whip. Vera swallowed bile as he took it down from the wall, curling it in his hands, sweeping his eyes admiringly down the length of the braided leather. He coiled it and uncoiled it as he approached Vera slowly, gaze sliding from the whip in his hands to her wide eyes.

“Are you _fucking_ serious?” Her voice was a ragged snarl. Her throat ached.

The man’s lips quirked up into a smile. “I take it you’ve never been under one of these?”

“What… _no_ , I haven’t been whipped before. You fucking psychopath - ”

He measured the distance with his eyes, let the length of the whip drop from his hands, and cracked it across her chest.

She gasped and fell back, momentarily stunned by the pain. Her shirt had been cut where the whip had touched her and blood dripped slowly down her chest. “What - ”

He crossed to her and yanked her head back by her hair. “Never speak without permission.”

Her chest stung. “Go fuck yo-”

He shoved her backwards, pinning her on her back under his weight. Her arms jerked against the handcuffs and she cried out. His lips made a hard line. “Never speak without permission.”

Tears streamed down her face. “Fuck y-”

His hand locked around her throat again. Panic clutched at her immediately. Her feet kicked against the ground and she tried to roll to the side, away from his grasp. He leaned forward until his lips were almost touching her ear. “I’m going to hurt you now, Vera. I’m going to cut off your shirt and whip you. And I’m going to keep going until you understand your first rule. Never speak without permission.”

She twisted her head against the pressure on her neck and snapped at his face. She missed and he jumped back, releasing her throat. _“Bad girl,”_ he hissed. She drew in a ragged inhale and coughed until her ribs hurt.

His hand seized her hair and jerked her head back, baring her throat. He smiled at the handprint bruises marking her there. He set the whip on the floor next to him and put his hand into his pocket, searching for his knife.

Vera writhed under his grip as she saw the flash of the blade. “Careful,” he murmured. “If you move, I might cut you.” She shuddered, her muscles locking into fearful stillness. He hooked the knife under the neck of her shirt and pulled, slowly splitting the fabric down her shoulder. The sleeve fell away. He did the same with the other side, cutting through the shoulder of the shirt until it hung loose around her torso. He released her hair to grip the scraps of the shirt as he drew the knife from the neck to the hem, pulling it away and baring her chest and abdomen. She shivered, sobbing quietly.

He hooked a finger under her sports bra. “I’ll let you keep this for now,” he whispered with a conspiratory wink. He pulled the tattered shirt away from her and tossed it to the corner. He took the whip in his hands and got to his feet again. She curled in on herself, feeling the warm blood still trickling down her chest.

“Once I’ve made you good, you’ll kneel and take this without complaint.” His voice was as calm as if he was remarking on the weather. “For now, I still have to break you in. Vera.” He waited for her sobs to stop. “Vera, listen to me.” She pulled her arms in to herself, shivering against the cold floor. _“Vera.”_ His voice snapped in the small room. She flinched and forced herself to look up at him. “Good. Now what is the rule I want you to remember? You can say it. You have permission.”

Cold, bleeding, terrified, she met his eyes and clenched her jaw. _“Fuck you,”_ she whispered.

His eyes hardened. “Suit yourself, Vera. This stops when you are ready to be good for me.” He took a few steps away from her and moved his eyes over her, choosing where to draw blood next. “I’d suggest, for your sake, you give me your back, Vera.” He didn’t give her time to move before he brought the whip down on her.

She screamed at it struck her across the arm and shoulder. She scrambled to cover herself, to shield herself from the next blow. He brought his arm back and cracked the whip across her body again. The lash caught her on the back of her neck. She tried to force the scream down with gritted teeth. She could feel the blood already rolling down her back.

“Get on your knees and face away from me, Vera. That way I don’t hit anything you’ll need later. Like an eye.” _Crack._ He hit her across the abdomen. She choked back a cry and curled in on herself harder. “Vera. I’m trying to help you, sweetheart. Be good for me and get on your knees.” _Crack._

Vera screamed. The lash cut across her forearms as she frantically covered her face. _He’s going to keep doing this until I listen to him._ Her stomach lurched in revulsion of her next thought. _If I listen to him, he’s not going to hurt me as much._ She whimpered.

“Vera…” His voice was gentle, scolding. _Crack._ She felt the welt rise immediately under her pants, just over her knees. _Crack._ She shrieked and scrambled away, wailing when the handcuffs pulled tight against her wrists. “Better, but I need you on your _knees_.” The whip curled around her and cracked against her chest, so high it almost hit her throat.

“Okay, okay!” she cried. She clumsily pushed herself upright on her hands and struggled to a kneeling position. Her body shuddered with sobs. _He’s breaking me, he’s breaking me already._ Her hands pulled into fists with disgust at herself. _I just want to stop hurting. I just want him to stop hurting me. I’m not giving anything up, he’s going to do this until I listen to him._ “Please…” she whimpered.

He paused for a moment, watching her as she trembled. “You did so well getting on your knees for me, sweetheart. But you forgot your rule.”

 _“No,”_ she sobbed.

“Never speak without permission.”

_“PLEASE.”_

_Crack._

She keened high in her throat, pitching forward under the force of the blow. Her back opened and blood ran down her skin, turning the waistband of her pants red. Her face was wet with tears.

“Do you understand me, Vera? Never speak without permission.”

_Crack._

She screamed, hands straining against the cuffs as she arched back. She pressed her lips together and moaned as the agony cooled a little before the next blow.

_Crack._

_“Please,_ I did what you _fucking_ wanted, I’m on my knees, _please…”_

_Crack._

_“No!_ Fuck you, _fuck you_ , you sadistic asshole piece of _shit_ \- ”

_Crack._

She couldn’t form words. She tried to spit out the curse burning in her throat but her tongue and lips were sluggish with pain.

_Crack._

_“No!”_

“Never speak without permission, Vera. I want you to say it.”

_Crack._

_“Ah! Fuck_ you, you piece of shit motherfucker - ”

_Crack._

The scream tore from her throat. _I can’t say it, I can’t fucking say it, I can’t let him have that._

_Crack._

_I can’t do this. I can’t take it._

_Crack._

_If I say it, he’ll stop._

_Crack._

She sobbed. “I can’t, I _can’t_ , I can’t say it.”

“Yes you can, Vera. Never speak without permission.”

_Crack._

_“No,_ no no no no no _please.”_

“Vera, be good for me. I don’t think you can keep going like this without passing out.”

_Crack._

Her scream was like fire in her belly, burning her as it tore out of her throat. “Then I’ll _fucking_ pass out, fuck you, _no…”_

_Crack._

_This is going to kill me. He’s going to keep going until I die, right here, if I don’t say it._

_Crack._

Her scream was desperate. “Stop,” she pleaded, “stop, I can’t, I can’t Ican’tIcan’tIcan’tIcan’tIcan’t.”

“I’m not asking for anything extraordinary, Vera. I just need you to say it. Never speak without permission. Then obey it.”

_Crack._

_“No!”_ She could feel the mess of her back, feel the blood running faster down the skin. She could feel the cold air against the cuts and welts, the open skin, the pain. The _torture._

_Crack._

_I wonder if someone can die from this. If he’ll just keep going until there’s nothing left._

_Crack._

_I don’t want to die like this. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die._ She shook her head desperately, trying to ward off the thoughts.

_Crack._

_I don’t want to hurt._ She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

_Crack._

_What is my pride worth?_

_Crack._

_“Please!”_

_Crack._

_“Stop!”_

_Crack._

_“NO!”_

_Crack._

_“N-never speak without permission!”_

He lowered his arm. He was smiling. She hung her head in shame, a sick, heavy weight settling into her stomach. _He broke me. He’s going to break me more._

His hand settled in her hair and he smoothed his fingers gently through it. “Good girl, Vera.” His voice was quiet and heavy with affection. “Good girl.” She was too frozen by shock to pull away.

He knelt in front of her, setting the whip on the ground beside him and taking her face in both his hands. The whip left a smear of blood on the floor. She shivered and squeezed her eyes shut at the sight of it. “Vera. Look at me.”

 _I can’t take it right now. I can’t take more. I’ll fight him later, I can’t do it now._ Her eyes fluttered open, defeated.

His mouth was pulled into a wide smile. “Good girl. Such a good girl.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. She gasped and pulled away, revulsion curdling in her stomach. His hands became hard and he forced his mouth over hers again. She whimpered, tasting salt as he licked along her bottom lip. When he pulled away his lips were damp with her tears. “Pearson is going to come down here soon and take over for me while I sleep. You remember what I said?”

She crumpled in on herself. She nodded.

“Say it. You have permission.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “I won’t…I won’t…fall asleep.”

His teeth showed as he smiled wider. “Good girl.” He released her face. She slumped to the floor, agony overtaking her as her back was shot through with pain. “I’m going to clean those wounds as soon as I clean my tool.”

She looked up at him in confusion until she saw his hand curl around the whip. _The whip is his_ tool. She shuddered. _What does that make me?_

He moved to the side of the room and opened a cabinet, pulling out a spray bottle and a rag. He soaked the rag and ran it down the length of the whip, adjusted the rag, and wiped down the whip again. Sprayed again. Wiped again. He dropped the rag to the floor and she saw it was stained with blood. He pulled another from the shelf and repeated the process until the rag came away clean. Content, he walked to the wall and returned the whip to its spot. He went to the cabinet again and took another bottle and rag. He moved smoothly to Vera’s side. “Turn around for me, sweetheart. I need to get those clean.”

She whimpered. “Please…”

He knelt and put the rag and bottle on the floor. “Vera…” His voice was low with a warning. “Sit up and turn around.” She sobbed brokenly and did as he was told. “Good,” he purred. He tipped the bottle into the rag and soaked it. “Hold still, sweetheart. I hear this hurts more than the actual lash.” He pressed the rag against a cut across her shoulder blade.

Her vision whited out for a moment. She threw her head back and screamed, straining hard against the handcuffs. Her body trembled with effort to stay upright. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find the muscles to draw in air. She was hot and cold, dizzy, nauseated…

He pressed the rag over another cut. She sobbed with agony. “Please, please…stop…”

He sighed. “If I don’t clean these, they might get infected. You’re being so good for me.”

Over and over he soaked the rag and dabbed it against the cuts, the rag slowly turning pink in his hands. Alcohol ran down her back, chilling her. The walls swam as tears clouded her vision.

“There you go. All done. Oh, let me get the ones on the front.” He wiped the rag across the lash to her chest, and across her forearms. She was babbling, begging him to stop in broken, incoherent sobs.

“P-ple-ease n-no-o…” She couldn’t get a full breath. Her body was on fire. “No-o…p-pl-lease…”

He smoothed a hand through her hair. “All finished, sweetheart. You’re done. Good girl, Vera.” He rose and put the bottle away. He gathered the rags in his hand and deposited them near the door. He went to her again and guided her face up, a smile on his lips. “Are you going to behave for Pearson?”

 _Anything to get him to leave me alone._ She nodded, swallowing bitter shame.

“Good.” He drew his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ll leave you then. He’ll bring you some food and I will see you in the morning. Remember what I told you…?” He looked at her expectantly.

Her lips trembled and she closed her eyes. “Never speak without permission. And I…I won’t fall asleep.”

He grinned at her. “Good girl.” He released her. Her head dipped as she crumpled under his gaze. He went to the door, throwing one last glance at her as she began to sob heavily.


	4. Captivity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when you accidentally introduce a character that was never mentioned outside the prequel...oops lol

Vera lay on the floor, curled into as tight a ball as she could manage. It pulled at the cuts on her back but she didn’t care. She drew her arms into her chest as hard as she could, wrapping herself around the anchor and handcuffs keeping her bolted to the floor. She shook with sobs.

She tried to push every thought out of her mind, the sharp edges of shame and terror cutting into her with each wave of pain.

_I broke –_

_I gave up –_

_I’m weak –_

She shuddered. _No. I’m doing what it takes to survive._ But she didn’t believe it. Not really.

_All he asked of me this time was to say something, or not say anything. What is he going to make me do next? What is going to be the price of me not hurting? What is going to be the price of being_ good _?_ She squeezed her eyes shut. _There’s no point in thinking about it now. All that matters is that I’m not being hurt right now._ She shivered against the cold.

She lifted her head to look around the room. Her eyes settled on the scraps of her shirt, tossed into the corner. There was no way for her to reach it, still shackled to the floor. She would have been grateful even for that protection against the cold. The cement floor seemed to suck the warmth right out of her.

The blood on her back had cooled and dried, the blazing agony of the alcohol having dulled to a constant burn. Each breath made her wince as the cuts moved with her ribs. She closed her eyes.

She shot upright as the door opened again. She scrambled backwards until the cuffs pulled tight around her wrists. Her eyes were wide as she watched a man walk in with a tray of food and several bottles of water. _Pearson?_ He seemed far less interested in her. He went straight to her and set the tray in front of her. Her muscles were locked in anticipation of pain. It didn’t come. He set the water down next to her and walked to the side of the room, leaning on a blank spot on the wall and crossing his arms, looking bored.

She was frozen in place, eyes still riveted on him. He didn’t move from where he was standing, didn’t look at her. Her gaze flicked to the water and back. Her throat was raw and she was aching for a sip of water.

She reached towards the tray and jerked a little when she was stopped short by the handcuffs. She dragged the tray and the water closer to her with her feet and took a bottle in her hands. She cracked the seal and leaned down to take a sip. She whimpered as she arched her back over, stretching the lash marks. She felt one start to bleed again.

“You want out of those?”

She flinched at the sound of his voice. Her eyes snapped to his, hand spasming around the bottle. She didn’t want him anywhere near her. She swallowed hard.

He rolled his eyes, digging his hand into his pocket as he made his way over to her. Her stomach lurched and she cowered backwards from him, ducking away from the pain she knew was coming. He reached for her wrist. She aimed a desperate kick at his knee.

_“Fuck!”_ He sidestepped the kick and stumbled back a step, away from her. He held out his hand, a handcuff key pinched between his fingers. “What the fuck! Do you want out of those, or not? Jesus Christ…”

She licked her lips. _He didn’t jump straight into hurting me. Maybe he means it._ She watched him carefully, looking for any sign that it was a trick. Finally she nodded. _If he wants to hurt me, he’s going to. No sense in refusing to have these off if he means it._

“You’re not gonna try and kick me again?” She swallowed and shook her head. He was watching her suspiciously now. “…ok. Lay down on the ground. Stretch yourself out as far as you can away from the cuffs.”

Her stomach dropped. _He can do anything he wants to me like that. Anything._ She felt tears burning behind her eyes.

“I’m not risking a fucking kneecap for you. Do it, or stay in the cuffs.” He hadn’t moved an inch.

Trembling, she did as she was told. She stretched herself out on the ground, the cuffs pulling tight on her wrists. She shivered at the cold of the cement on her abdomen.

“Now put your head down.”

She couldn’t help the sob that caught in her chest. _Is it worth it to be out of these?_ She raised her eyes to him, desperate for a sign that he was serious. That he wouldn’t hurt her. _He’s here to hurt me. It’s going to happen at some point tonight._ She pressed her forehead into the floor, tears running down her nose to drip onto the cement. Her hands were squeezed into fists.

She felt a hand on her wrist and flinched, the metal cutting harder into her skin. He twisted the cuff slightly and she cried out. She felt a click, and the cuff came loose. She gasped. _“Don’t_ fucking move.” She froze, trembling at the rough hand now grasping her other wrist. Another click, and the cuffs clattered to the ground. She heard the man get to his feet and return to his place by the wall. Tentatively, she raised her head. His arms were crossed and he was looking away from her again. Slowly, so slowly, she pushed herself to her knees. Then got her feet under her in a crouch.

She dashed towards the door.

He lunged after her. Her fingertips brushed the door and she felt his hand grab her hair and yank her back. _“No!”_ she screamed. He heaved her backwards and she hit the floor hard.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” He stood over her as she scrambled to her feet, legs tensing to run again. He walked backwards towards the door, blocking it with his arms out wide. Her eyes flicked to the side. He followed her gaze and jumped towards her as he realized what she was going to do.

She lunged for the knives lined up in a row on the wall. Her hand closed around one and she spun, slashing at him as he crashed into her. He blocked the slash and twisted her wrist, slamming her back against the wall, his forearm against her throat. Torture implements clattered to the floor.

_“Drop it,”_ he growled. She bared her teeth at him. _“Drop it, or I break it.”_ She spat in his face. He flinched back but didn’t lose his grip on her wrist. He twisted harder. She cried out. _“Drop it.”_

Furious tears streamed down her face. She twisted her head to the side and aimed a bite at his arm. He slammed his forearm against her jaw, pinning her head back against the wall. She whimpered. “Last warning. _Drop it.”_ His hand tightened threateningly around her wrist. She screamed and writhed under him. Her hand spasmed open and the knife fell to the floor. He dropped her wrist and twisted a hand in her hair, yanking her away from the wall and wrestling her to the floor. His weight fell on top of her as he pinned her arms under his legs, straddling her hips, a hand locked around her throat. She convulsed against his hand. _No no no no NO._

“Fucking _stop!”_ he shouted. She drove her knee up, trying to hit him in the back. The leverage he had on her hips made the kick weak and clumsy. His hand tightened against her throat and she heaved out a sob.

“Please…” she whimpered. Tears ran down her face into her hair.

“Fucking please _what?”_ His breath was hot on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to turn away from him. He jerked her face back to him. “No, fuck you, please _what?”_

_“Please…”_ she sobbed. _“Please…don’t hurt me…”_

He scoffed out a bitter laugh. “Are you fucking _serious?_ You try to fuck up my knee, try to run, try to fucking _stab me_ … and now you want me to not hurt you? Jesus…fucking…” He shook his head in disbelief.

Rage boiled in her. “You blame me for _running?”_ she snarled at him. “I’m in some fucker’s _torture basement_ and you blame me for fucking _running?”_ Her chest heaved.

He blew out a slow breath and shook his head. His hand loosened around her neck and he sighed. “No…”

“Then get the _fuck_ off me.”

“Sorry sweetheart, no can do.”

“Don’t _fucking_ call me that.”

He paused and pressed his lips together. “Ok. Sorry.”

She struggled against his hand. “Please, please get off me.” She felt the panic rising in her chest. _“Please!”_

“Not a fucking chance in hell. I don’t feel like getting fucking stabbed today.”

Hot tears poured down her face. _“Please!”_

His mouth hardened into a line. “Fine. But you’re getting cuffed.”

_“No!”_

He ignored her. He released her throat and she coughed weakly against the crushing feeling that lingered. He leaned his weight halfway off of her and grabbed her wrist, twisting it behind her back and flipping her onto her stomach. He jerked her arm hard and she cried out, her body going rigid. “Walk on your knees over to the anchor point.”

_“No!”_

He jerked her arm harder. She screamed. “Come on. Move.” His other hand locked in her hair and he forced her forward.

She sobbed bitterly. “No no no…please…you don’t have to cuff me, I’ll be…” _I’ll be good._ She shuddered.

“Fucking _move._ ” He stood, forcing her forward. She stumbled on her knees to avoid being dragged.

“Please _no…”_ He shoved her onto her stomach, kneeling on her back, pinning her arm against her back beneath his knee. He twisted her other arm away from her side, forcing it towards the handcuffs. _“NO!”_ She thrashed and cried out as he leaned more pressure onto her back. He clicked one cuff around her wrist and jumped away from her, bringing the extra pair of cuffs with him.

She sobbed, pressing her cheek against the floor. “No…”

He hovered a safe distance away, arms crossed over his chest again. “I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t tried to _fucking_ stab me.”

_“What else am I supposed to do?”_ she screamed at him. He bit his lip and fell silent. She pushed herself up onto her knees, glaring daggers at the man. “Am I supposed to just lie here and…and _take_ whatever you do to me?”

His face darkened and he turned away, moving to the tools scattered across the floor. He picked them up and carefully returned them to the wall.

She felt out of her mind with helpless rage. “What are you here to do, huh? Fucking…psychopath…what the _fuck_ are you here to do? Go ahead and _fucking_ do it, you sadistic mother _fucker -_ ”

He laughed and turned back to her. “You think I’m a _sadist?”_

Her lips pulled back over her teeth. “What the fuck else do you call it when you enjoy hurting people?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t fucking… _enjoy_ it.”

She bristled. “My fucking mistake. That makes it so much fucking better.”

He laughed and rolled his head back to look at the ceiling. “Look, hun, I’m just here to do my goddamn job.”

“How _very fucking comforting,”_ she spat at him. “Never heard that excuse before.”

He took a step towards her. She stiffened and stared him down. “What… _exactly_ …do you think is going on here?”

Her voice broke, and she hated herself for it. “You’re here to h-hurt me.”

His mouth opened, closed, opened again. Finally he looked at the floor. “Yeah, _kinda._ But _have_ I fucking hurt you? Goddamn…out of your fucking mind…”

She swallowed. “You nearly broke my wrist.”

He laughed at her. “Because you were trying to _fucking stab me_ , or have you already forgotten that?”

She ground her teeth together. _“Fuck you,”_ she spat.

He laughed again. “You are a piece of work, you know that?”

Her blood felt so full of hate she felt like she would die from it. She shuddered and looked away from him. Her eyes fell to the food again and her mouth watered. She crawled to the tray and the opened bottle of water, which had miraculously avoided being spilled. With her free hand she held the bottle to her lips and drained it. He returned to his spot of leaning against the wall. When Vera glanced at him, she noticed the streaks of blood against the wall where he had pinned her. She swallowed hard.

He noticed her looking. “Boss is gonna be pissed about that. He prefers to keep things clean.”

“Then he should rethink his _fucking_ hobby.” He nodded his head, conceding. She reached for the sandwich and devoured it.

He watched her for a moment. “Who are you, anyway?”

_Ah. So he’s the good cop in this good cop/bad cop routine._ She ducked her head. “Fucking nobody.”

He snorted. “So you’re not a cop?”

“No,” she growled.

He laughed. “Everybody thinks you’re a cop.”

“Well everybody’s fucking wrong, then.” She reached for the tiny orange on the tray. _Guess he doesn’t want me to get scurvy. Lucky me._ She peeled it and shoveled the wedges into her mouth. After she was done, she peered at the peel. “Is he gonna starve me? Should I eat that, too?”

He shrugged. “Fuck if I know, dude. I’m the new guy. Kind of.”

“So am I,” she replied darkly. “Big difference in the fucking welcome I got.”

He looked at her, his lips pulling into a hesitant smile. He paused for a moment. Then: “I think you’re a cop.”

“I don’t fucking care what you think.” She dug into the bag of chips. “He’s feeding me weirdly well for a captive.”

“Maybe starvation isn’t on the menu, then.”

“Are you seriously ok with this?” She pinned him with her gaze. “He keeps people in this fucking nightmare factory and you’re just…cool with it?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed once, twice. His head twitched to the side like he was trying to decide something. His mouth opened, closed. He took a deep breath. “I’m cool with keeping my job. I don’t really care what the job is.”

She sneered at him. “Said every person who’s ever done a truly fucked up thing.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

“What, you couldn’t get a job as a paralegal or digging ditches or busking on the sidewalk or literally _anything else?”_

“Nope.”

She scoffed. “The job market isn’t _that_ fucked.”

“Yes, it is. Just because everybody needs cops doesn’t mean everyone can be one, hun.”

“I’m not a _fucking_ cop.”

“Save it.” He held up a hand. “I don’t care.”

“But I - ”

“Dude. Just. Shut up. I truly, truly don’t care.” He shook his head at her. “I’ve got a record. Not exactly like people are lining up to give me a job.”

“Yeah, so you add a few other things to your fucking record. Brilliant fucking move.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Says the not-cop.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He laughed. “Whatever.”

She reached for the protein bar. Her hand closed on it before she decided she wanted to save it. _I have no fucking clue when I’m going to eat again._ She tucked it into her back pocket and wrapped her arms around herself.

“You cold?”

“I’m half naked in a dungeon with no heat. Yeah, I’m fucking cold.”

“The place has heat.” He smirked at her. “He just likes to keep it cold.” He aired out his shirt. “Feels nice.”

“Says the guy who gets to wear a shirt.”

“…and also just kicked your ass. I’m sweaty. What can I say?”

“Fuck you.”

He laughed. “Do you want a shirt?”

“Yeah, that’d be fucking spectacular.” Her eyes were fixed on him as he crossed the room, picking up her tattered shirt in the corner and tossing it over to her. She tore little scraps away from the frayed edges and tied them together. She pulled it over her head. “Great. Now I look like I’m wearing some sort of fucked up hospital gown.”

He shrugged. “Sure.” He eyed the tray at her feet. “Slide the tray out of reach.”

“Fucking why?”

He stared her down. “Because I don’t want you to try to kill me with it tonight, that’s why.”

She pressed her lips together. “Sure. Let me get right on that.”

He sighed and crossed his arms. “Fucking do it.”

Her lip curled. “Come here and take it.”

He let his head fall back. “Christ, I’m in for a long fucking night.”

“My heart weeps for you. Really. It does.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh my god. Thank god for night differential.”

“Glad to know you have your priorities in order. Torturing people is a great job as long as the _benefits_ are good.”

“You’re awfully judgy for someone who joined the same family.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You _did_ join the family to do crime shit, right?”

She swallowed. _He got me._ “I…my job isn’t hurting people.”

He snorted. “You’re fucking deluded if you think what you came here to do, whatever it is, if you’re telling the truth about not being a cop, which I _don’t_ believe, by the way…” He smirked. “You’re deluded if you think you aren’t here to hurt people, too.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably. I did _something_ stupid to get assigned to guard duty for the world’s most pretentious captive.”

“So we agree that’s what I am.”

“I never said you weren’t. All I said is that I think you’re also a cop.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fucking kill me.”

He tilted his head at her. “I’d be careful about what you say.”

All the color drained from her face. “Noted.”

He slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He yawned. “Ugh. Fuck.”

She twisted her free arm, inspecting the marks left by the cuff. Her skin was broken in a few places. It stung against the cold air. She lifted her eyes to him again. “You said ‘kinda’.”

“Huh?”

“When you said you were here to hurt me. You said ‘kinda’.”

“Oh.” He blew out a breath. “Yeah. I have my orders. Keep you awake, hurt you to do it.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I have to go all Deliverance on you.”

She flinched. “Did you have to use that reference?”

He had the decency to look embarrassed. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

“So…that’s it? You’re just gonna keep me awake?” She rolled her shoulders. “I can deal with you smacking me around a little bit if that’s all you’re gonna do.”

He laughed. “You’re weirdly ok with this.”

She sighed. “It’s been a weird fuckin’ day.”


	5. Chapter 5

Vera jerked awake with a kick to the gut. She groaned. “Ugh. There are nicer ways to wake someone, you asshole.”

Pearson shrugged. “Not here to be nice.”

“Is he fucking watching you? Are there cameras in here?”

“Nope.”

“Then you could try _not_ being a grade-A prick for two fucking seconds.”

He sighed. “Dude, he told me to fucking hurt you. That’s what I’m going to do. You seriously think he’s not going to look for marks on you when he comes back tomorrow?”

“That kick isn’t going to leave a fucking mark.”

He paused and his mouth snapped shut after a moment. “Fair enough.”

She pushed herself up painfully until she was sitting up. “Although frankly, I don’t give a shit if you leave marks or not. If you disobey his orders that’s your problem, not mine.”

He laughed. “Dude, if I don’t leave marks on you, I have a feeling _you_ are going to be the one regretting it way more than me.”

She swallowed hard. “How much do you know about this guy? How he operates?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not telling a fucking cop how he does business.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not asking how he operates business-wise, I’m asking about…” She waved her free hand around the room. “…how does this work.”

“I only know what he’s told me.”

“And what has he told you?”

He shrugged. “That you’re an undercover cop, and he needs to know how much you passed on to your handler. At which point he’ll probably kill you, if I had my guess.”

Her mouth went dry. Her throat clicked as she swallowed. “But I…I’m not a cop…”

He raised his hands, looking at the ceiling in exasperation. “Not my fucking problem. You pissed off the wrong guy, and I’m just following orders. I’ve been assigned to guard duty tonight. That’s all I know.”

“But you think he’s gonna kill me.”

He fixed her with a look. “Look around. Do you think he’d have let you see the inside of this room if he planned on just…a catch-and-release?”

She tried to take a deep breath, but the air was catching in her chest. She felt pressure like a hand on her throat starting to constrict her airway. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her hands into fists. “No…” She’d figured there was a good chance he was going to kill her. But hearing someone else say it…and so nonchalantly, like her life was _nothing_ … She felt the burn of tears behind her eyelids. _I am not going to cry in front of this motherfucker._

“I’m sorry.”

She blinked her eyes open in surprise, eyes snapping to his face. His expression was closed off, cold, almost.

“It’s shitty luck, and it sucks. So I’m sorry.”

She buried her face in her hand, hiding her eyes until she was sure she wasn’t going to cry. She drew in a tremulous breath, held it, and blew it out. Again, in, and out. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Um…” Her voice cracked. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to get me out.”

He snorted. “Hilarious. Even if I wanted to…which I don’t, by the way, because I value my fucking job…it’s impossible. Between all the staff, and the _army_ of security cameras around the outside of the house and the yard, watching the street, all the windows and doors…” He shook his head. “It’s literally impossible. There’s no way.”

She stared at him until her lower lip started to tremble. She jerked her head to the side, tears burning in her eyes. She turned away from him and lowered her face into her hands, resting on her lap. She forced down the terror, the pain, the hopelessness. She ducked her head lower and moved her fingers through her hair, making fists and pulling. The panic was making her sick. She shuddered and huddled tighter into herself. She focused on her breathing. In, out. In, out.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No,” she growled.

“Ok. Good.”

She could feel the exhaustion dragging at her bones. “What time is it?”

“Uh…about three.”

“Geez.” She yawned. “Long day.”

“Yeah.” He was silent for a moment. Vera heard him lean away from the wall and take a step towards her. She whipped around to face him, heart beating fast. “I do still have to hurt you, though.” His arms were crossed over his chest. “That still has to happen.”

She sighed, her head dipping in a vague nod. “If marks are your concern, I can work with that. I can show you how to leave marks.”

He stared at her, dubious. “…I know how to leave marks.”

“Yeah, but I would rather you not _actually_ hurt me too badly when you leave them.”

“You don’t exactly have a choice.”

She glared at him. “You said you aren’t a sadist.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m not. I…” His hand went up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m not.”

“Did Daddy Kink McGee know that when he assigned you this post?”

His mouth fell open, the corners of his lips pulling up a little as he blinked. “…what did you just call him?”

She shrugged. “You think of a better name for him, let me know. Dude’s got serious issues…”

“Oh my… _god…_ ” He laughed quietly. “That’s fucking excellent.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t think he knows that. I also don’t think he gives a shit. I’m guessing he just kinda…assumed I’d be into it.”

“Yeah, because who _wouldn’t_ assume everyone likes whipping just because it makes him feel all tingly inside?”

He swallowed hard, his smile sliding slowly from his lips. “I wondered what that was from.” His eyes went to the marks on her shoulders that disappeared beneath her tattered shirt.

She straightened up, turning her back further away from him, hiding the marks from his view. “Yeah.” She looked at the floor. “That’s what that’s from.”

“That’s…” His expression was impassable.

“What?” she snapped.

He wet his lips. “That’s a weird thing to do to a cop he needs information from.”

“Weird thing to do to _anyone_.”

He chewed his lip. “…yeah.”

“Why does it bother you? The fucker _told_ you to hurt me, you didn’t assume he’s just a normal dude, right?” Her eyes flashed. Rage began to boil in her stomach.

“No, I just…I just kind of assumed it would be the normal stuff. Brass knuckles, threatening you with a gun, that kind of stuff.”

“Oh yeah, and that you’re fine with.” She glared at him.

“Look…” The sentence died on his lips. He tried again. “I didn’t want this, ok? I thought I’d be working security detail, something like that. I didn’t know I’d be doing…” He waved his arm around the room. “… _this_.”

“Forgive me for not pitying your delicate sensibilities.” Her voice seethed with hatred. “Your feelings aren’t exactly my top priority right now, so stop apologizing like they are. I don’t fucking care how you feel about this. Fact is, you’re going to do it. So…” She lifted her chin at him. “…fuck you. Do it.”

He met her gaze steadily, jaw working. “Ok. How do you want me to do this?”

She gritted her teeth. “Well…” She blew out a breath as she mulled it over. “Arm doesn’t hurt so bad, you could punch me in the arm a few times. I guess the legs aren’t too bad either. Kick, punch, I really don’t care, just don’t break anything. I’m assuming you’re going to be cuffing me again before you leave so I don’t need to many defensive wounds.”

He was watching her carefully. “You sure?”

“Yeah, how exactly am I supposed to fight back if I’m - ”

“No, I mean…are you sure that’s what you want me to do?”

“You got any better ideas?”

He shook his head, almost in surrender. “Not really.” He took a few steps closer. “You ready?”

She sneered at him. “So fucking ready.”

“Ok.” A few more steps, and he stopped in front of her. His hand curled into a fist. She held his gaze, staring him down as he pulled his fist back. His eyes dropped to her neck and he froze, his fist hanging in the air. “What - ” He lowered his hand, reaching towards her throat.

_“No.”_ Her free hand shot out and slammed into his wrist. He stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide and still fixed on her neck. She fell back, crying out weakly as the cuts on her back slammed into the floor. She scrambled away from him, gasping for air through the sobs that were tearing through her chest one right after the other.

“I…I’m sorry…”

“Don’t _fucking_ touch me,” she sobbed. Her throat ached like his hand, the _other one’s hand_ , was still crushing it. She held out her arm in front of her, eyes blurry with tears, choking against the sensation in her throat.

“I… _Jesus_ , did he…was that…”

“Please,” she sobbed.

“Fuck. I thought that was just…a shadow…I’m sorry, I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…” He swallowed painfully. His eyes moved to her shoulder, revealed through the slits in her shirt, to the ring of broken skin that was crossed with lash marks, partially concealing it. “And that’s…that’s a fucking _bite mark_ , isn’t it?”

_He’s not here. He’s not here, no one’s touching my neck. There’s no one here but this idiot and he’s not going to do that._ She shuddered and tried to make herself believe the words. “Please…”

“I’m not…I’m not gonna do that. I’m not…Jesus Christ…”

“Please don’t…please don’t touch my neck…”

“I won’t. Ok? I won’t. I promise. I’m sorry.”

She whimpered. “You can do the rest but…please…”

“I won’t. Ok? Look at me.” She raised her eyes to him. He was holding his hands up in supplication, his eyebrows pulled together. “I won’t.” She searched his face desperately. “I promise.” He licked his lips. “I won’t.”

She rolled onto her shoulder, a whine starting in her throat. She could feel her back had opened up and started bleeding again. She pushed herself up, trembling. “Ok.” She swallowed hard. “You can…you can do it…”

“I can wait until you feel…”

“Better?” She shook her head bitterly. “It’s not gonna get any easier. Please let’s just…just do it.”

“…ok…” He stepped closer to her again, flexing his hand and pulling it into a fist. “If you need me to stop, just - ”

“Let’s stop pretending I have any choice in this,” she hissed. “You were right. Just do it, for fuck’s sake.”

“Ok.” He drew his fist back and punched her in the arm.

She grunted, her face screwing up in pain for a moment. “Good punch.”

“I know.” He pulled back and punched her again, over the same place.

_“Fuck.”_ She put her head down and breathed through the ache.

He shook his hand out. “You ok?”

“Fucking peachy.” She raised her head to meet his eyes again. “Keep going.”

His boot caught her in the chest. She flew onto her back, a ragged scream punching out of her lungs. “What the _fuck!”_

“He’s gonna get suspicious if you only have bruises over big muscle areas.”

She whimpered as she tried to sit up again. “Fine, but you could have fucking - ” She grunted again as he kicked her hard in the thigh. “ - warned me!”

“I don’t want you to flinch and make me hit something important.” Another punch, to the other arm.

“Fucking _Christ_ , ok, you got me! Jesus, fucking stop!”

He kicked her in the hip, too low to hit her kidney. “I have to make it look like you gave me trouble.”

“How could I have given you trouble, I fucking - ” She bit off a scream as he kicked her in the shoulder. _“Fuck this, fuck you.”_ She aimed a kick at his stomach.

He blocked it and darted in close, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t - ” She threw herself forward, trying to headbutt him in the nose. His other hand tangled in her hair and he forced her head back, kneeling beside her as he restrained her. “Don’t you _fucking_ get it?” His voice was low and strained. His eyes dropped to her throat again. _“That_ is some…is some fucked up shit. He did that after you were already chained down, right?” She nodded against the hand in her hair. “He…he did it over and over again. I can see the…the handprints…” He shook his head and pressed his lips together. “That’s fucked up. And I…I just fucking _know_ he wants me to do the same kind of shit to you. And I…” He shook his head. “I’m afraid if I half-ass this, he’s gonna…” His eyes were dark. “He’s gonna do worse. A lot worse. Ok? I’m sorry, I should have told you what I was gonna do. That was stupid. But I…I didn’t want you to have to hold yourself still if you knew I was gonna do that.” His hand loosened in her hair and he stepped back.

A tear rolled down her cheek. _He’s right. I don’t know how I know, but he’s right. If that motherfucker thinks he went easy on me, even a little bit, he’ll…_ She shuddered. _I don’t know what he’ll do._ “Ok.” She swallowed. “Do it.” She closed her eyes.

His boot connected with her side. She was flung to the floor, crying out as the air rushed from her lungs. _He didn’t break anything._ Another blow, to her shoulder. Another, to her legs. Another still to her chest. She heaved out a ragged gasp. Another kick to her arm. She felt a hot flush pour over her skin. She couldn’t help the sob that twisted her voice. She lay curled on her side, trembling, waiting for the next blow.

It didn’t come. Her eyes fluttered open. He was standing over her, hands in fists at his sides, jaw locked shut. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and turned away. He leaned against the wall and slid down it, eyes fixed on the floor. She pressed her temple into the ground, grateful for the first time for the coolness. She didn’t try to stop the tears from falling.


	6. Rape/noncon

“Wake up.” Vera startled awake to Pearson’s whisper near her ear. She flinched, her injuries complaining as she pushed herself upright. He was kneeling beside her, a hand firmly on her shoulder. His other hand held a pair of handcuffs.

She groaned. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight.” He licked his lips. “My shift is over in a few minutes. He’s a pretty punctual guy and I need to get you into these before he gets here.”

“You let me sleep?” She was staring at him, perplexed.

He wouldn’t look at her. “…yeah. Give me your other arm.”

She bit her lip, debating. _I can’t just…_ let _him cuff me again. But if he comes back…and sees Pearson let me out of one of the cuffs to do anything other than hurt me…_ She shuddered and offered her free hand to him. His hands were gentler than before as he clicked them around her wrists. He wound his hand around the chain linking them as he unlocked the single cuff from around her wrist with his free hand, snapping it around the chain and securing her to the floor again.

“Is Pearson a first name, or a last name?”

He looked away from her as he stood up. “My name’s Ryan. Ryan Pearson.”

“Ok. Ryan. Thank you.” He looked at her in surprise. “For letting me sleep.”

He shook his head and looked back at the floor. “Just…don’t fucking tell him.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest.

“No fucking shit.” She rolled her neck, stiff from lying on the floor.

She felt a dull pit growing in her stomach. _What is_ he _going to do to me? What is he going to_ make me do _?_ She swallowed bile. She glanced at Ryan as he checked his watch. He looked up at the door just as it opened.

Vera’s stomach lurched as he walked in. He was carrying a tray of food and what looked like folded clothes under his arm. He looked pristine. Well-rested. Calm. Vera could feel the exhaustion dragging at her bones, the echoes of every blow she’d been dealt moving through her body. Her throat ached with a phantom feeling of his hand crushing it. She swallowed hard.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” He was smiling. He turned to Ryan. “How was she for you?”

Ryan’s hands flexed at his sides and he fixed his eyes on the wall opposite him. “A handful, sir.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“She…” He licked his lips. “She’s a mouthy bitch, sir.”

“Hm.” He turned to her, his lips turned down. “I was working with her on that yesterday. I’m disappointed it didn’t stick.” Ryan’s eyes flicked in her direction for a moment, then returned to the opposite wall. His face hardened. “We’ll have to work that extra hard today.” He tilted his head, his eyes roaming over her. “You let her have her shirt back.” He turned to Ryan. “Why?”

Vera saw his throat bob imperceptibly as he licked his lips. He gritted his teeth before he answered. “Got tired of listening to her teeth chatter. I won’t do it again, if you’d prefer I don’t.”

He waved a hand at him. “I didn’t give you specifics. You do with her as you see fit, whatever keeps her in line.” His eyes moved back to Vera. “Thank you, Pearson. You’re dismissed.”

“Should I…do I have the same assignment tonight, sir?”

“Your shift will be here, yes.” His eyes glinted. “As for your _assignment…_ ” His lips pulled into a vicious grin. “We’ll see how well she does today and I will update you as necessary.”

“Yes sir.” He pushed himself off the wall, militantly looking away from her as he went to the door. He pulled it open and passed through without a backwards glance.

The man approached Vera with the tray, setting it next to her. She followed his every movement with her eyes as he moved away from her, walking slowly around the room, eyes passing over all the instruments on the walls. Her eyes flicked to the food and back to him.

“Eat, Vera,” he ordered. Her stomach burned in resentment as she reached for the tray. _I am not going to refuse to eat. Of all things he tells me to do, I will not refuse that._ She dug into the sandwich he had brought and chased it down with water.

When she was finished, he turned back to her, eyes dark and cold. “I’m very disappointed in you, Vera.”

“Forgive me for not giving a shit.” She clenched her jaw as she watched rage flicker in his eyes. _God, I’m so tired, I just want to not hurt…_

His lip curled and he advanced on her.

_But I absolutely will not let him break me down._

His hand whipped across her face and she fell onto her elbow. She kicked at him, her foot connecting with his abdomen. He grunted and fell back a step. His eyes snapped to hers and she quailed at the look of absolute… _rage_. “Vera, you are being a very, _very_ bad girl,” he hissed at her as he moved on her again. He sidestepped her, moving out of range of her kick. He lifted his foot and stomped on her stomach.

The air rushed out of her and she curled in on herself, gagging and retching at the pain. A thin sweat broke out on her skin. She let out a broken sob.

He grabbed her ankle and dragged her away from the anchor locking her to the floor, pulling her arms up over her head. He knelt down and yanked her head back by her hair. She twisted against his grasp, wrists pulling against the cuffs. She cried out as the metal pulled at her torn skin. “Now.” He straddled her, wrapping one hand around her throat as the other locked in her hair. “What are your rules.”

_“Fuck you,”_ she snarled at him, writhing underneath him. _“Fuck you,_ you mother _fucker_ , you fucking sadist piece of -” She cried out as his fist collided with her side. Tears rolled down her face. _“Fuck you.”_

“Vera…” His voice was dangerous and low. “Tell me your rules, or I will make you regret it.”

“Regret what, you mother _fucker?_ Fucking -”

He clapped a hand over her mouth. “Since you can’t seem to remember them,” he said calmly, “I’m going to help you.” His hand twisted in the remains of her shirt and he tore it off her in a single, quick movement. He pulled the knife from his pocket and cut a long strip out of the hem. He tossed the shirt aside, rolling the strip in his hands. “Open your mouth.”

“You can suck my ass if you think I -” She jerked as he punched her again in the side, her mouth falling open in a tortured scream. He forced the cloth gag between her teeth and tied it roughly behind her head. She roared her rage at him, the sound slightly muffled by the gag.

“It’s a temporary fix, but I’ll work with it. Never speak without permission. Only sleep or eat when I permit you to. We have a third rule today.” He grinned down at her as she thrashed underneath him, her words caught by the gag and muffled. “You may never scream unless I permit it.”

_Fuck you, motherfucker, fuck you straight to hell…_ Her curses were rendered unintelligible by the gag in her mouth. She whimpered her frustration, hot tears running into her hair. She raged helplessly at him as he looked down at her, smiling.

“Vera, nod if you understand. You may only ever scream if I permit it.”

She lurched at him, doing to her best to spit in his face through the gag. _I’ll scream when I fucking want to, motherfucker, die in a fucking car fire…_ She sobbed harder as he began to laugh.

“As much as I hate cheating with the gag, I am very much enjoying your reaction to it.” He licked his lips. “Once you’ve calmed down and decided to be good for me, we’re going to have a discussion about Pearson. How so were you a handful for him? I told you to be good for him. And…” He trailed off, eyes moving over her chest and abdomen as she heaved with sobs. “It looks like he had to try to fix you multiple times.” A finger trailed down her throat to the bruises across her chest. “Hm. Bad girl. Such a bad girl.”

_Fuck you._ Her jaw worked as she tried to spit the gag out of her mouth. It was tied too tightly. She wailed helplessly.

His lips pulled up unconsciously into a smile. “I’m going to make you so good,” he mused. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be…perfect.” His lips pulled back over his teeth. “Let me show you how good you’ll be. Let me show you what you’re going to take for me when I’ve made you good, take without complaint.”

His hands trailed down her body to her waist. He pressed his fingers into her skin, admiring how her chest rose and fell with her frantic gasps, savoring the little sounds she was making through the gag. He leaned forward until his lips were almost touching her face. “I’ll take this off for a moment,” he whispered. He pulled the gag from her mouth.

_“Fuck you, you fucking -”_

He bent and shoved his mouth against hers. She shrieked in horror as his hand locked around her jaw, forcing her mouth open as he pressed his tongue in, licking obscenely along the inside of her mouth. She tried to force her jaw shut to bite him but he pried her mouth open, sloppily kissing her, biting down hard on her lower lip. She screamed. He pulled back, licking her blood off his lips. He forced the gag back into her mouth and released her jaw. She wailed miserably.

“You’re going to be so good for me, Vera,” he crooned as his hands moved to her waistband. He moved his weight off of her as he jerked her pants down around her hips.

  1. Panic clutched at her soul. _NO NO NO NO NO._ She screamed in horror as he yanked her pants all the way off. Her legs spasmed with terror as he reached for her underwear and tore them away. Icy claws of fear ripped into her belly as she looked up at him, desperately searching for anything human in his eyes, any shred of guilt, or pity, or doubt.



She saw only hunger.

She twisted away from him, aiming frantic kicks as he stepped to the side. He slammed his foot down onto her abdomen again, stunning her. Her lungs seemed frozen in her chest and she writhed, gasping for air.

He knelt and forced her knees apart. Her choked screams dissolved into incoherent wails as he unzipped his pants and pulled his already erect cock out. He positioned himself between her legs and she recoiled in horror as he pressed himself against her. “Be good for me, Vera,” he murmured. He forced himself inside her.

Her voice broke as she screamed, unraveling under him as he jerked himself deeper inside her and filled her up, bruising her with the force of his thrust. She tried to plead through the gag, tried to beg, tried to promise she’d be good, she would, she’d be better. She’d _behave._

He thrust into her again, his face a mask of vicious pleasure. He began to piston his hips into hers. His hand curled around her throat and he pressed down, laughing as her eyes went wide and desperate, straining and choking against his hand. He watched her face redden, her eyes rolling wildly in her head until her lids started to flutter shut. He loosened his hand a little bit, allowing her to drag in a few ragged breaths. Then he tightened it again, cutting off her air completely. Her mouth gaped around the gag as she tried to drag air in. He released her and she gasped at the air hungrily.

He picked up the speed of his thrusts, working harder into her, relishing how she jerked upwards every time he pounded into her. She whimpered as she felt her back open up again, blood pooling on the cement as he fucked her harder, moving her against the floor. She tried to pull herself away from him, straining against the cuffs. He grinned and yanked her back down, stretching her arms out above her head again. She cried out, leaving a smear of blood on the floor.

Sweat began to bead on his brow and his mouth fell open in a moan. “Vera…sweetheart, you’re so good…you’re being so good for me…good girl…” He clutched at her hip, his fingers leaving deep bruises and his hand crushed into her. He put both hands on her waist and dragged her towards him, thrusting even harder into her, a flush creeping up his chest and neck. He bent over her, one hand locking in her hair, the other gripping her hip and pulling her flush against him. He sunk his teeth into her neck and bit down until the sound of her scream shook apart the room. “That’s right, sweetheart, scream for me, I give you permission, you can scream for me…” Over and over again he sunk his teeth into her, her shoulder, over her collarbone, over the top of her right breast at the edge of her bra, on the underside of her arm as she strained harder against the cuffs. She was completely lost in the pain, the horror, sobbing incoherently through the gag.

He growled deep in his throat as he felt his climax begin to build. He began to grunt with every thrust. She felt him jerk forward deeper into her as his breaths came heavier. She turned her head away from him, burying her face in her arm so she wouldn’t have to look at him. His hand locked in her hair and twisted her until she was looking at him again. “Look at me, Vera,” he growled. “I want to see your eyes, sweetheart. Good girl. Be a good girl for me.” She screamed her terror as he pressed himself over her and moaned. “Good girl, Vera, be good for me…” His voice rose into a whine and his hips began to jerk in uncoordinated thrusts up into hers. He collapsed on top of her in a filthy groan as he emptied himself into her, burying his face in her hair as he came. She sobbed underneath him as he crushed her under his weight, catching his breath. She felt his sweat on her skin begin to cool. He pulled back, moving his thumb over her bottom lip, gaze sweeping down her body from her eyes to where he was still deep inside her, softening. His lips pulled into a smile.

“So good, sweetheart,” he purred. He carefully pulled himself out of her, spilling himself over the ground. He walked over to the scrap of her shirt on the floor and cleaned himself before tucking himself back in his pants. He made his way to the wall where his knives were lined up in a neat row.

His eyes moved over the streak of blood on the wall. “Looks like Pearson let you out of the cuffs for a bit of fun last night. Did he fuck you against the wall here?” He turned to look at her where she was curled up on the floor, trembling with shock. “Answer me.” His voice cracked like a whip. She weakly shook her head. “Hm.” He turned back to the wall, letting his fingers trace over the spot. “Interesting. Perhaps I should let him, if you choose to give him trouble again tonight.” He chose a knife from the wall and walked back to where she was lying.

She was curled up on her side, shaking weakly with sobs. He put a hand on her shoulder and she jerked, a wail rising from her throat. He hooked one finger under the gag and eased it out from between her teeth. Her mouth fell open in shock, her eyes half-closed and unfocused.

He eased the knife under her chin and pressed it gently there. She stiffened, dissolving into a piteous wail. “Now, Vera,” he murmured softly. “What is your first rule?”

“N-never…speak…without…p-permission,” she rasped.

A smile broke over his face. “Good girl.”


	7. Chapter 7

"Please," she whispered. She whimpered as the knife pressed harder into her throat. 

"What's your first rule, Vera?" he growled. "Don't disappoint me by forgetting again."

"Never s-speak without permission," she sobbed weakly. 

"Good girl. What's your second rule?"

She swallowed against the bitter shame that burned under her skin. "Only eat or s-sleep when you let me."

"Good," he purred. "Very good. And the new rule?"

Her lips trembled. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pull away from the knife. He viciously jerked her head back and pressed the knife against her pulse. "No..." she whispered. 

He shoved her onto her back. She screamed as the mess of her back pressed against the ground again, leaving smears of her blood. He straddled her hips and yanked her head back with a hand in her hair. The knife went under her chin again, pressing hard enough to cut. A bead of blood rolled down her neck. 

_"No!"_ she screamed. "Please, no...please..." She twisted away from the knife, pulling desperately at the handcuffs, squeezing her eyes shut. "No no no..." she whimpered. 

"Tell me your third rule, Vera," he hissed. 

"No please, _no,_ not again, I can't... _please_..." Her voice broke with sobs. 

He leaned in close to her, his breath warm on her face. She flinched and tried to turn away. "Your third rule, Vera. I won't have to do anything to you at all if you're good and tell me your third rule."

_"Never scream unless you let me,"_ she sobbed. "Please, please, I said it, _please..."_

A smile twisted his lips. "Good girl. But you forgot your first one again. Never speak without permission."

_"Never speak without permission,_ please... _Please..."_

He tsked. "You keep forgetting, Vera. I'm going to have to help you again."

"N-!" 

The word was cut off as he shoved the gag into her mouth again. She wailed in despair, tears streaming down her cheeks. He stood and stepped away from her. 

He went to the wall and returned the knife to its spot. He took down a cane from its place among the rest of his... _tools_. She sobbed uncontrollably. He ran his fingers gently over the thin rod, watching her as he did. Her lungs ached. 

"I'm sure you know what this is, Vera." He laughed. "Even if you don't, I trust you to figure it out." He knelt beside her and pulled her head up by her hair. "Now, sweetheart. I'm going to beat you with this. I need you to be a good girl and not scream for me. If you can get through five strikes without screaming, this ends and I let you rest. Do you think you can do that for me?"

She shook her head, sobbing. _Please,_ she tried to beg through the gag. _Please. I'll be...I'll be good._ Her stomach lurched and she tasted bile at the back of her throat. 

His eyes glinted and he stood. "You know the rules, Vera. Remember them. I do not give you permission to scream." He brought the cane down on her exposed stomach. 

She cried out, too startled to hold in the noise. She whimpered as he shook his head, tapping the cane against the palm of his hand. "I told you not to scream, sweetheart. Five more." He snapped it down across her ribs. 

_"Nngh!"_ The sound was forced out of her by the power of the blow. 

He titled his head. "That wasn't quite a scream, but I don't want you making a sound that loud. I'll let it slide, this time. I haven't had much time with you to make you good." He cracked the cane across her forearms, pinned above her head by the handcuffs still. 

She jerked, locking her chest and keeping the sound inside. She shuddered as the pain spiked for a moment after the cane had left her skin and let out a shaky exhale as it faded. "Excellent," he murmured. "Two." 

_Crack._ The cane struck her in the abdomen again. A tiny yelp left her throat as she curled around the blow. He sighed. "I'll allow that, too, also I'll probably regret that later. I'm being too lenient with you. That's three." A grin slid across his face. “I'll admit, I do like the sounds you make. There will be plenty of time to enjoy those once I've made you good." _Crack._

The cane immediately left a red welt across the tops of her thighs. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream and she squeezed her eyes shut, sweat beading across her body. 

He paused for a moment, eyebrow raised. "...nothing? No scream for me?" She desperately shook her head, sobbing silently against the gag. "Good. That's good. Four."

_Crack._ She jerked against the cuffs as he struck her once more across the thighs, biting down hard into the gag until her jaw ached. The pain eased and she let out a soft groan. 

His lips curled up. "Very good, sweetheart. Five. Very good." He showed his teeth in a sardonic smile. "We still have to do the other side."

_No!_ she screamed through the gag, rage and terror and pain searing through her blood. His hand locked around her sports bra and he jerked her onto her stomach. "This can go, too," he growled. His knife was out of his pocket in an instant and he was cutting through the straps before Vera realized what he was doing. He tucked the knife away and yanked the tattered bra out from under her and threw it into the corner. She trembled, completely naked now, sobbing in despair. 

He pressed his hand against the lash marks on her back and she screamed. "Ah ah, no, Vera," he crooned. "I haven't given you permission to scream yet. This is going to be...an _extra_ challenge for you, since you took the first five so well. To reward you, I'll give you this: make it through five more strikes, and I'll give you some clothes." He lifted his chin to the pile of clothes he had left on the floor. His hand grasped her hair and he twisted her head to the side to she had to look at him. "Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you take five more without screaming, and then get a rest and some warm clothes?"

She nodded against his grip in her hair. _Yes,_ she pleaded. _I'll be good, I'll be quiet._

He kneeled and brought his lips to her ear. "Never speak without permission, Vera. Even with the gag. If you break that rule again I'll have to make you good. Do you understand?" She nodded, her head sinking back to the floor as tears ran down her face. "Good. Five strikes, sweetheart. Remember, you do not have permission to scream."

_Crack._ Vera shook apart into a desperate scream as he brought the cane down directly on her lash marks. The pain lanced through her, filled her up, until she was trembling, writhing against the floor. Her mouth pulled wide as she wailed around the gag. Sweat poured down her face but she shook with the cold. 

"Bad girl. I told you, you do not have permission to scream." 

_Crack._ Vera locked her jaw shut, the strangled cry dying in her throat before she could fully form it. She felt sweat roll down her back -- or was that blood? She couldn't tell. She couldn't think. 

"That's one." _Crack._

The cane came down at the back of her thighs. She convulsed around the pain, gasping at it clutched at her. "Good. Two."

_Crack._ She felt the cane snap against bone at the tops of her shoulder blades. She jerked, tearing the skin around the handcuffs further. Her wrists were becoming slick with blood. "Three. Good girl, Vera."

_Crack._ She gagged at the pain and the cane struck her across the lash marks again. _Please, please, I can't scream, I can't._ Her voice seemed to echo through her own mind. "Four."

He raised his hand and snapped the cane down on her back with all his strength. The scream was torn from her, tearing through her throat as the cane split her flesh and made a new line of blood across her back. 

He tsked. "Bad girl, Vera. Very bad girl. I was trying to test you, see if you could really be good for me. Now we have to start over."

_No!_

_Crack._ Again, across the back of her thighs. She grunted, her throat closing in her desperation not to make a sound. "Very good, Vera. One."

_Crack._ The cane wrapped around her and struck her against her side. She rolled away from the pain, legs scrabbling against the ground. But still, she stayed silent. He placed his foot gently on her back and pushed her onto her stomach again. "Good. Two."

_Crack._ The cane left a welt against the small of her back. She cringed into the floor, sweat cooling on her skin and making her shiver. Her ribs ached with the force of her silent sobs. "Three. If you can stand two more, Vera, we can stop and you can rest."

_Crack._ The cane cracked against the bones at the base of her neck. The pain made her dizzy. The room began to spin. Her chest felt frozen as she trembled. "So, good, Vera. You're being so good for me. One more, sweetheart."

_Crack._ The blow crashed down on her back, inches from where he had split her skin. The room seemed to swoop around her as her eyes rolled back. Her vision was going gray, the agony echoing through her body seeming to drift further from her awareness as she sunk deeper into a comfortable nothingness. 

She felt his hand on her hair, smoothing gently through. "Good girl, Vera. Such a good girl. You've earned your rest, and your clothes." She felt gentle hands at her wrists, heard the handcuffs clatter distantly against the floor. The darkness rose up to meet her and she slipped under. 


	8. Chapter 8

Vera lay curled on her side, her hands cuffed above her head and anchored to the floor. She was clothed, and she was grateful for it. Thick sweatpants protected her skin from the chill of the cement floor. The bloodstains on her soft long-sleeved shirt were slowly drying. He was standing over her, admiring her. How she trembled against the floor. How her chest was heaving slightly with quiet sobs. How her tears were making a dark stain on the floor beneath her face. 

She felt only sickness on the inside. The pain in her body had long since dulled to a low hum in the background, stabbing her into wakefulness every time she took a breath too deep, or her body jerked with a particularly violent tremor. 

He knelt beside her, a hand resting gently in her hair. She whimpered and turned her face away from him. He sighed deep in his throat as he pulled his fingers through her hair. "Vera," he murmured. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and tears ran down her face. 

"Vera," he said a little louder. She could hear the threat running through his voice. 

She opened her eyes, cringing inwardly. _Does he want me to answer?_ Hatred ignited in her body. _What the fuck do I care what he_ wants _?_ She held her tongue and raised her eyes to his. 

He smiled. "Pearson is going to be here a in a few minutes. I want to review our rules and remind you of my expectations with him." His hand tightened in her hair in a painful grip. "What are your rules?"

Her lips trembled. Her voice failed as she tried to speak. She licked her lips and started again. "N-never speak without permission." Her voice was a quiet rasp. Her throat felt mutilated from screaming. She swallowed. "Only eat or sleep when you tell me to." Her voice shook. "Never scream unless you let me."

His hand became gentle again. "Good. Very good. Now." His face pulled into a terrifying mask of a smile. "When Pearson arrives, I expect you to be respectful. You will not give him any trouble, is that understood?" She nodded weakly. "Good. If I hear from him that you were anything but good and obedient, I will have to remind you." His lips pulled back over his teeth. "And this time I will not let you scream while I do it." She whimpered, tears soaking into the floor. "Be a good girl for him, Vera." He released her hair and stood. 

He moved slowly about the room, his eyes moving over the implements on the walls. He clasped his hands behind his back. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and shuddered. _His hands were stained with my blood today._ She felt a sob rise in her and swallowed it down. 

Her thoughts turned to Ryan and she felt a different kind of despair. _I can't fight him. I can't take it if he decides to hurt me._ A dark thought clutched at her and she trembled. _I wonder if I could convince him to kill me. Make it look like an accident._

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and Ryan walked in holding a tray of food, just like yesterday. He froze for a moment when he saw her lying on the floor. He swallowed, his face falling into a cold mask. He set the tray down at the door and turned to face her captor. 

"Right on time, Pearson," he said with a smile. "I appreciate that."

"Of course, sir." His voice was low and even. "What is my assignment for tonight?"

Her captor's eyes slid over to her with a smile. "I have worked with her today on obedience. I want to apologize for her behavior last night. I believe it will not be a problem again. If it is, however..." His eyes turned back to Ryan and fixed on him with a wicked grin. "I permit you to do anything you see fit. You may not kill her, or injure her so severely that she needs a hospital. But anything up until that point..." He looked back at her again. "But I doubt that will be necessary. She was very good for me today." 

Ryan's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "And if she's...good...sir? What are your expectations?"

The man looked at her hungrily. "Your job is still to help me break her in, Pearson, and I expect you to do so. How you do that is your prerogative."

Ryan's voice gave only a hint of a stutter. "Yes, sir. I think I understand you, sir." 

The man looked back at him, eyes glinting. "I trust that you do." He turned to go. "You may let her sleep tonight, if she refrains from being troublesome." He took the scraps of her shredded clothes with her as he left. The door shut firmly behind him.

Ryan was frozen in place for a moment, his mask melting slowly into an expression of horror. He licked his lips. Swallowed. Took a breath. "...hey...are you alright?"

She lay still on the ground, taking trembling breaths. _No, fuck you, you motherfucking piece of shit._ A bolt of fear struck her. _He wants me to talk and he'll hurt me if I don't._ She opened her mouth, her throat aching. "No."

"Yeah, I..." His hands clenched into fists. "I...I brought food, if you want to eat."

She closed her eyes, turning her face to the floor. Hatred seethed in her gut, making her nauseated. "Thank you," she spat through her teeth.

"Ok, now I know something's wrong." He forced out a choked laugh. "No 'fuck you, motherfucker'?"

She whimpered, curling harder into herself. 

He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Jesus, what did he...did he torture you? You know he wants to know what you -" 

"Yes," she sobbed. "Yes, he tortured me. But he didn't even fucking... _ask_ about anything. He didn't ask me about my handler, about what I know..."

"So you are a cop." Ryan's jaw clenched. 

She dissolved into sobs. She covered her head with her hands, wishing she could curl up so small she could disappear. "Please don't tell him," she whispered. "Please don't tell him I said that."

"I..." He shook his head. "You know I have to. That's my job. Keep you in line, help him...'break you in'..." He looked sick and his gaze flicked down at the floor.

"Please," she wailed. "Please don't, you don't know...you don't..."

"If you tell him what you know, you know he'll stop."

"He doesn't _want to know_ ," she wailed. "He doesn't _care_ who I am, what I know. He didn't ask me a single fucking think about it. He doesn't want to know. He wants to..." She shuddered, gagging against the nausea that was spiraling through her. "He wants to... _hurt me_ , he doesn't care that I'm a cop, he doesn't _fucking care_..." She sobbed brokenly. "All he did today was torture me. He's given me these _stupid_ fucking rules...I'm not allowed to speak unless he lets me, or sleep, or eat, or...or _scream_..." 

"...what?" Ryan took a step towards her, then another. She lifted her head, eyes wide and pleading. He stopped where he was and dropped to one knee. "I'm not gonna come any closer, I just... Jesus, what did he _do?"_

She swallowed hard, the words beating themselves against the walls of her mind. _He raped me. He held me down and raped me and called me a good girl while he did it._ Her sob drew out into a tortured scream. He stared at her helplessly as she convulsed with sobs. 

_"He raped me,"_ she whispered. Ryan went white. Her face was slick with tears. "Then he beat me and told me he'd stop if I could be...could be _good_..." The word tore out of her, twisted with loathing. "He told me he'd let me have clothes again if I could take the beating and not scream..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "He doesn't fucking care who I am. He doesn't. He just wants to hurt me. He wants to hurt me and...and fucking _train_ me to be... _good_..." She gagged as her stomach spasmed. She sank into the floor, exhausted, bones aching. 

Ryan's mouth bobbed open and closed. His body was frozen, tensed to the point of pain. He shook his head slowly. "I...can't..." He swallowed hard. 

Fury rose in Vera's blood and burned away her fear for a moment. She painfully pushed herself upright. "You can't _what?"_ she spat, venom thick in her words. "You can't _believe it?"_ She lurched towards him until the handcuffs snapped tight on her wrists, unbearable rage swelling in her chest. Her body ached with the need to do violence, ached with her inability to throw herself at him and murder him for the thought. She wanted to bash his skull against the ground until she could see the grey and white inside. She wanted to tear his throat out with her bare hands. 

"No," he whispered. "I...I believe you." He sank to both knees. 

Her eyes flashed. "Then fucking do something about it."

"I..." He looked down helplessly at his hands. "I can't. You know I can't." 

"You _can,"_ she snarled.

"No." He met her gaze. "I know the security here. I'm not lying to you when I tell you I can't get you out. This guy is...well, fucking crazy. He assigned me to guard you even though you're _chained to the floor_. He's just as thorough everywhere else. You'd be killed before you even cleared the basement."

"Then..." Her throat spasmed. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Then kill me."

His eyes widened. "No. I...I can't... I'm not..."

"You can make it look like an accident." Her voice was low and urgent. "You can. A kick to the head...going too deep with the knife...please." She licked her lips. "Please..."

He shook his head. "I...I'm so sorry..." His jaw clenched. "I can't."

She slumped back, tears welling in her eyes again. "You know what he's gonna do," she whispered. "And...you're going to help him do it..."

_"No."_ His eyes were hard. _"No."_

"It's the same thing. If you don't help me it's the same thing."

"It's not..." He was shaking his head. "I won't hurt you...he can't make -"

"He can't _make you?"_ Her voice was a growl. She glanced at the smear of her blood on the wall. "He asked me about that. Asked if you fucked me against the wall there." His face twisted. "Said he was going to let you, if I wasn't _good_ for you." She spat out the word. 

"I am _never_ going to do that." His hands clenched into fists. "No. I am...never..."

"He'll make you," she whispered. "If you think he won't, you're fucking deluded. If he ever thought you were going easy on me, if you were soft for me, he'd make you do it and he'd fucking _watch_." Her stomach roiled and as the words left her lips she knew they were true. 

"I'm not _soft_ for you," he spat through gritted teeth. "Just because I refuse to...to _rape you_..."

_"Help me,"_ she begged. "You have to know he'll make you do it, he'll make you do worse. If you ever stop hurting me, if he suspects you don't want to..." Tears started again at the thought of him hurting her. _I can't do it. I can't...not anymore, not from him, I can't do it..._

"I..." He stared at her helplessly. "This is so fucked up." His hands went to his hair and he pulled. 

_"Please..."_ she whimpered, her lips burning with the salt of her tears. Her mouth was raw from screaming against the gag. 

"I'll help you," he whispered, his hands falling to his sides, his eyes burning into hers. "I'll find a way. I'll find a way to..." He made a sound almost like a whimper as he pressed his hands against his face. 

"You can't tell him I gave you any trouble." The words were ragged.

His head snapped up. "I know. I'm sorry. I thought that's what he wanted to hear, what he was expecting. I didn't know he would...I thought he would be content knowing I hurt you...I didn't know he would..." His voice broke. "I'm so sorry..." His hands moved through his hair again. "I'll tell him you were easy to deal with, that you were... _good_..." He seemed to gag on the word, too.

"Th-thank you." The words burned her tongue. 

He winced. "I'll find a way..." His eyes moved around the room desperately, as if the answer was written on the walls. His eyes landed on the tray. "Are you hungry?" Bitterly, she nodded. "Ok." He got to his feet and made his way over to the tray. He carried it to her as if in a daze and knelt down to set it in front of her. He pulled a handcuff key out of his pocket. His hands shook as he unlocked the cuff from the chain binding her wrists together. He moved to put the cuff on one wrist. 

"Please," she whispered, pulling back. "Please. You don't have to cuff me. Please."

He shook his head. "Not letting you kill me. Sorry." He snapped the cuff around her wrist. He took off the cuffs linking her hands together and tucked them into his pocket. His eyes flicked to the marks on her neck and he sucked in a quick breath through his teeth. "He did it again."

She nodded, and the movement hurt. Her free hand went to her neck. She brushed her fingers across it and it ached, the bruised skin sensitive even to the feather-light touch. 

He bit his lip as his eyes settled on the fresh bite mark on her neck. His hand drifted up to touch it. 

Her body jerked and locked into a painful tension. He dropped his hand and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry. I promised. I didn't mean to... I'm sorry." His eyes roamed over her, stopping on the stains of blood that had soaked through her shirt. He made a small sound of disgust in the back of his throat. 

Vera couldn't help the disdain that twisted her features. "You were ok with brass knuckles and death threats," she seethed. "Why is this any different?" 

"Because..." He met her eyes. "That's just business. You're a cop, you tried to fuck up his work, he catches you and kills you. That's just..." He shrugged. "That's just business. But this..." His eyes flicked over her again. "This isn't business. This is sick. This is _torture."_ He swallowed. "And it's not to get information, you said. This is just..." He shook himself and stood. He walked to his spot against the wall and slid down until he was sitting. 

Vera turned away from him and dug in to the food. Her body felt used up. Empty. She'd never tasted anything so good. 

"You know he'll kill me." 

She looked up at him, eyebrows pulled together. "...what?"

"He'll kill me." He fixed her with his gaze. "If I can find a way to get you out, which I don't think is possible, by the way..." He pressed his lips together. "He'll kill me." 

She swallowed hard. _Yes, probably. This is me not giving a shit._ She didn't say anything. When he dropped her gaze she turned back to the food. 

He was silent for a few more minutes until she was done. "What's your name?"

She considered not telling him. She felt a chill of fear and for a moment she could feel the man's hands on her. _If I hear from him that you were anything but good and obedient, I will have to remind you._ She convulsed with a quiet whimper. "Vera," she whispered, a tear running down her cheek. "My name is Vera."


	9. Recorded/broadcast torture

_Ugh._ Vera rolled to her side, rubbing her face on her sleeve. Ryan stood over her, a look of concern on his face. “Wha isit?” She looked around blearily.

His lips were tight with tension. “Time to wake up. My shift’s almost over.”

“Shit.” She pushed herself upright, groaning softly as her body complained. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“You’ve been asleep since eleven.” He held out his hand for her free wrist.

She placed her wrist in his hand and he cuffed her hands together, shackling her down to the floor again. “Fuck. I didn’t even realize.”

“You needed it.” He stood, wiping his hands on his pants. He turned and began to pace along the walls of the cell.

“You look nervous.”

“Yeah, well, after what I agreed to do for you last night I feel like I have the right.”

“Yeah, I know _why_ you’re nervous, dumbass.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m saying, stop looking nervous. He’ll know something’s up immediately if you keep doing that.” She glared at him. “And I think we’d both agree I have way more reason to be nervous than you do.”

“You’re not expendable to him,” he muttered.

She stared at him open-mouthed. “…the fuck did you just say?”

He turned to her, an apology heavy in his eyes. “I’m not saying you have it better in this situation. All I’m saying is…he had the opportunity to kill you and he didn’t. He wants to keep you alive, no matter how fucked up the reason. Me, on the other hand…” He shook his head. “He gets one whiff of hesitation from me and I’m fucking dead.”

Her jaw clenched. “Then don’t give him a whiff of hesitation,” she forced through gritted teeth. Her ribs still ached from where he’d punched her a few times last night. He’d been careful not to break anything, but each breath creaked painfully out of her. _I’ll take it. I’ll take it over…_ As if on cue, the cell door opened.

A wave of nausea passed through Vera as her captor walked through the door. Her hands locked into fists and her wrists ached as she unconsciously leaned away from him as he swept in, looking fresh as ever. As if he hadn’t spent all day yesterday beating her into oblivion. _As if he didn’t rape me until I was screaming yesterday._ Her jaw spasmed as she stared him down with loathing.

“Good morning, Vera.” His voice was cold and friendly. He turned to Ryan. “I hope she was better behaved for you this time.”

“Much better, sir.”

A smile pulled at the corner of the man’s mouth. “I trust you still took your time to help break her in.”

Ryan’s lips curled into a sneer that was so convincing it made Vera look down at the floor in a moment of uncertainty. _Who’s he trying to fool right now? Me, or him? Will he tell him everything I told him yesterday? Would he tell him I’m hoping he’ll break me out?_ She swallowed hard, on the edge of panic. Then Ryan’s eyes flicked to her, breaking for a moment in a look of fear. _He’s trying to fool him. For a dumbass, he’s a damned good liar._

“Yes, sir.” Ryan’s smile widened. “I had a good time with her. Thank you.”

"Let's see your work." He approached Vera and ran his fingers through her hair. She shuddered, bile rising in her throat. She could smell his cologne, his soap, and for a moment she was overwhelmed with memories of the previous day. His hand around her throat. Him, bringing the cane down on her back until she bled. Him, thrusting into her. She whimpered. 

His hand made a fist in her hair and yanked her head back. He inspected her neck, pursing his lips when he didn't find any new bruising. He lifted her shirt. Ryan looked away. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on each breath as it came in and out. _He's just touching me. He's not hurting me._

_Not yet._

His hands continued moving over her, baring her arms, her legs. Ryan stared at the floor. Her captor blew out a slow breath. 

"Pearson."

"Sir?"

"I want you to come in early for your shift tonight. Say...three hours early."

There was the slightest of hesitations. "Sir?"

"You'll be paid for the overtime, of course. I want to further specify your duties."

Ryan's eyes fixed on Vera, wide with dread. 

She felt her eyes fill with tears as she held his gaze. _I told you. I told you he'd make you hurt me. I told you he'd make you do it while he watched._

He held her gaze for another moment. Vera couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Then his mouth twisted into a sneer. "Yes, sir." His voice was so strained with hunger that her captor turned back to look at him. 

He stood and walked to his side. His hand went to Ryan's shoulder. “Good man. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes sir.” Ryan turned to go. He threw a glance back at her as he closed the door, his face twisted in a look of…terror. For her.

Vera’s throat tightened as the man turned back to her. “Well, sweetheart. I’m happy to hear you were good for Pearson. Not that I was concerned – you did very well yesterday, all things considered.” His smile looked strained, like she could see the violence coiled behind his eyes. “But today I’m afraid I’ve got some other business in order.” He held up one hand. In it, was her phone.

She blanched. That phone was how she communicated with Chris, her handler. She kept it at her house, tucked into a gap between the wall and her doorframe in her room. She swallowed hard. _How did they find out where I live?_

“I was about to ask if you recognize this but by the look on your face, I’ll assume you do.” He grinned at her as he pressed the button on the side, illuminating the screen. “But it’s locked, and only takes a fingerprint.” He waved it at her. “What are we going to find inside once we unlock it?”

“It’s…it’s n-not mine…” she stuttered.

He tsked at her. “Vera, really, you’re a terrible liar.” He knelt in front of her. “What’s on this phone?” She bit her lip and met his eyes, trembling. He considered her for a moment, his eyes moving back and forth between hers. Then his smile deepened. Her stomach plummeted.

She didn’t see the punch until it crashed into the side of her head. She crumpled to the floor, a shocked cry forced from her throat. He dragged her by the ankle until her wrists pulled tight against the cuffs. He punched her hard in the side and straddled her chest. She dragged in a ragged gasp, eyes rolling back with the pain. _I can't let him get into that phone._

He reached above her head and pried her hands out of the fists she was making. "Be a good girl, Vera," he murmured. "Be a good girl and open the phone for me."

_"No,"_ she sobbed. She twisted beneath him, trying desperately to yank her hands out of his grasp. She screamed as her wrists tore against the handcuffs, opening up the shredded skin again. 

"Vera." His voice was a low growl. His eyes were dark with something that terrified her. "Be a good girl, or I will _make you good."_ His breath snarled in her ear.

_Not that._ She shuddered and fell still, her chest racked with sobs. Every breath in and out ached. She let him pull her pointer finger out straight and he pressed it against the phone. It unlocked. He grinned and released her hand, scrolling through her messages. 

"Now. Who's Chris? You seem to talk with them a lot." He moved his thumb over the screen. "You talk to them all about meetings and friends and yet...it doesn't seem that you ever actually mention... _hanging out_ with them." He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Would I be correct in saying this Chris person is your handler?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm not a cop," she whispered. "I'm not a cop."

"That's not what I asked you, Vera." His hand flew out and struck her across the face. She gasped, her head snapping to the side. He leaned in and yanked her head back, his breath warm on her face. "I asked you if Chris is your handler."

The feeling of his breath on her face made her stomach lurch. A spike of panic pierced her chest and suddenly she felt like she was under him again, but naked, screaming, gagged. She convulsed under him, her mouth falling open in a raw scream. _"Please."_

_"Vera,"_ he snapped. _"Answer me._ Is Chris your handler?"

_"No!"_ she screamed. "He's my friend, we hang out sometimes... I'm not a cop, I'm not a _fucking_ cop, please... _please..."_

His hand clamped down on her throat and her pleas were cut off. "Let's see, Vera. Let's see who picks up the phone." He pressed a button and the phone began to ring. He put it on speaker. Tears ran down Vera's face as she bucked against the hand at her throat.

One ring. _I can't let him say anything... Chris, please... Don't fucking say anything..._

Two rings. _No no no please... Chris, you'll kill me if you say anything..._

The third ring was cut off. _"Vera? You weren't supposed to check in until Thursday. Is something wrong?"_

Her captor's lips pulled back over his teeth in a terrifying grin. She quailed, trying to turn away from him as she gagged against his hand. 

"I'm afraid Vera can't come to the phone right now," he purred. "She's a little indisposed."

The moment of silence on the other line felt like an eternity. Vera fought to take a breath, the room starting to spin around her. _"...who is this?"_

He chuckled. "I'm the one you sent Vera in to spy on. I'm the reason she's going to die today."

His hand loosened slightly and she gasped out a sob. _No..._

She heard a shaky breath on the other line. _"Look, I don't know who you think you're talking to..."_

"I know exactly who I'm talking to. _Chris._ You're Vera's handler."

_"Her...what?"_ She could hear the terror in his voice. She opened her mouth to scream to him. Her captor's hand clamped down on her mouth. 

"Her handler. The one she's been passing notes to for the past few weeks about all the terrible things I've been doing." His lips pulled into a sardonic grin. "I'm here to tell you...she's a terrible cop and an even worse liar. I just need to know exactly how much she's told you about me."

_"L-look, we're...we're just friends...we just hang out sometimes... I don't..."_

He pulled his hand away from her mouth and quickly stood. He kicked her viciously in the gut, his hand holding the phone aloft. Her twisted scream reverberated off the walls. 

_"Vera! Stop, fucking stop! Don't touch her!"_

"I need you to listen, Chris. What has Vera told you about me?"

_"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, I don't know..."_

He kicked her in the back. She jerked, a grunt forcing itself from between her teeth. 

_"No! Don't touch her, don't you...fucking touch her..."_ His throat sounded tight. She could hear tears in his voice. 

"I won't have to touch her again if you just tell me what I need to know."

His voice broke. _"Nothing, she's told me nothing..."_

"Chris, _NO!"_ She sobbed on the floor, folding in on herself as tightly as she could. 

_"Let her go,"_ he pleaded. _"Just let her go. She hasn't told me anything, I don't know anything..."_

"You're sure? You haven't heard a single thing? Like my name? Or where I live?"

_"No, nothing."_ He was barely holding back sobs. _"Nothing. Please... Vera, I'm so sorry..."_

"Let's see if she agrees." He straddled her again and set the phone down beside her head. He pulled something from his waistband and pressed it under her chin. _A gun._ She cringed away with a wail. His hand locked in her hair, holding her in place. "I'm going to kill you, Vera, right here and now unless you tell me the truth."

_"NO! Vera, no...she doesn't know, she hasn't said anything..."_

"I'm not a fucking cop," she sobbed. She felt the cold metal press harder against her throat, hard enough to bruise. 

"That's not what I asked you, Vera," he said smoothly. "I asked you what you've told our friend Chris about me."

_"Nothing!"_ she screamed. "I haven't told him anything...I never knew who you were until you took me...please..." The hand in her hair tightened. "I swear to _god_ I didn't know!" He considered for a moment, licked his lips. Then he pulled the gun away. 

She sobbed out a desperate breath. "Chris, south side of town, house with a -"

_BANG._

The shot went wide, the gun held out to the side. A blank. His other hand slammed over her nose and mouth. He tucked the gun back in his waistband and his finger went to his lips. His mouth pulled into a sick grin. She twisted under him. She couldn't scream. She couldn't _breathe_.

Chris was sobbing, almost incoherent. _"Vera...n-no...please..."_

She thrashed under him, trying to throw his hand off. _I'm not dead, Chris...please...please keep looking for me..._

"Chris, I need you to listen to me very carefully."

_"No...Vera...I-I'm so sorry..."_

"CHRIS, I need you to focus." His voice boomed through the small cell. "This fate is what awaits every police officer you send my way. And if you try to get in my way again, it will be your fate as well, along with any family you have. Am I understood?"

The room was slowly going gray. Her lungs burned for air, her ribs aching as she thrashed under him, desperate. _I need to tell him, I need to tell him I'm not dead..._ Her mouth gaped behind his hand, her eyes streaming. She tried to throw him off but she couldn't get the leverage with her hands cuffed above her head.

_"Please..."_

"Am I understood?"

_"Y-yes, I...I understand..."_

"Good."

_Chris NO...keep looking for me, god DAMMIT..._

_"Can we at least...please...can we at least have her body back?"_

"Oh no. No no no. I'm going to be throwing her into a shallow grave, or perhaps into the river. You're going to have to have that lovely line-of-duty-death funeral for her with an empty casket, I'm afraid."

_"N-no...Vera, no..."_

"You should have stayed out of my way." He hung up, cutting off the sound of Chris's sob.

He tossed the phone into the corner, his hand wrapping around her throat. A choking sound squeaked out of her as he removed his other hand from her mouth. Her eyes rolled back as the room spun around her. 

_Chris...don't stop looking for me..._

His hand pressed down on her throat, cutting off her air entirely. His grin loomed over her. She tried to turn away, tried to get away from his hands. Her throat ached. Her head spun.

Everything went black.


	10. Forced to Beg

He checked his watch, smoothing his other hand through Vera's hair. She whimpered, cringing slightly away from him. Blood dripped down her sides onto the floor from the lash marks he had opened up on her back again. She quivered as the blood soaked through her shirt, lying face down on the floor, her hands chained to the ground in front of her. Her face burned with tears. 

"You did so well for me, sweetheart," he crooned. "Such a good girl, not screaming for me." He cupped her face, pulling it up until he could see her eyes. "I want to introduce another rule before Pearson gets here. I want you to be good and remember it for me." 

She pressed her lips together, stifling a sob. _I've done everything you've asked me to do. I've obeyed, I've been fucking_ good _. I can't take any more._ She squeezed her eyes shut, sending another stream of tears down her cheeks. 

He swept her damp hair away from her face, his eyes searching hers hungrily. "The new rule is this: _take all punishments without complaint._ Repeat it for me. I give you permission."

She swallowed. Her throat felt so dry. Her lips trembled. "Take all p-punishments without complaint."

"Good." His smile took up his whole face. "Now say all your rules."

She pressed the side of her head into the floor, pulling slightly out of his grasp. She took a shaking breath. "Never speak without permission. Only eat or sleep when you let me. Only scream when you let me." She swallowed hard. "T-take all p-punishments without complaint."

His breath sighed out of him. "Good. Good girl." His hand dropped away from her face and he stood, smoothing the wrinkles in his shirt. His fingers moved to a few spots of blood sprinkled over his clothes. "Damn." He ran his hand through his hair and surveyed her, lying still on the floor, trembling slightly. "Say them again."

She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled onto her side, arms going up instinctively to protect her head. "Never s-speak without permission. Only eat or sleep when you let, when you let me. Only scream when you let me. Take all..." She swallowed a sob. "Take all punishments without complaint." She wished she could sink through the floor and into the foundation below. _He can make me say the words but he can't make me believe them._

"Good girl." He walked in a slow circle around the room, looking at each of his tools in turn. "I had Pearson come in early today because he seems to be missing the point of breaking you in. I'm going to help him understand. You are to be good for him, am I clear?" 

She convulsed into a sob. She pressed her hands to her mouth to try to stifle it. Her throat tightened around the noise, her ribs aching as her chest heaved. She bit down on her fist, panicking. _"No..."_

Her whirled to look at her. She cringed into the floor as his eyes narrowed at her, his lips pulling back into a sneer. _"Be good for me, Vera,"_ he growled. 

"I'm _trying,"_ she wailed. "I'm...fucking... _trying..."_ She convulsed, curling up into herself, preparing for the blow. "I'm trying..." She was losing control. _Chris thinks I'm dead. He's not coming for me. He won't look for me... I am never getting out._ She sobbed louder, each breath forcing its way through her teeth in a scream. She wailed as he descended on her.

_"Bad girl,"_ he snarled. He kicked her onto her back. His hand went to her hair and he jerked, baring her throat, now almost completely mottled with bruises. Her neck ached as he placed his hand there again. He glanced at his watch. "I don't have time to get you back in line," he growled. _"Quiet."_

_I'm going to die here anyway. Who the fuck cares if I make that day today._ She opened her mouth and screamed. 

Her scream was cut off as his hand compressed her throat. _My trachea has to collapse if he keeps doing this, right?_ She thrashed beneath him. _He has to kill me like this. Maybe he'll just choke me out and I'll never wake up. Maybe I could make him crush my throat._ Her struggles were weakening already. She gathered up the effort to spit in his face as he leaned over her.

He roared his rage, his free hand striking her across the face. The room spun sickeningly for a moment. Her vision was getting spotty.

His hand loosened around her throat as he looked up. "Pearson. Just on time. Come here and help me." She coughed raggedly, her throat spasming around the air as she desperately dragged in breath after breath. 

She turned her head to look at him, again carrying a tray of food. He nearly dropped it at the door as his gaze fell on her, pinned down to the floor, her captor’s hand around her neck. He swallowed hard, blinked, swallowed again. He set the tray down at the door and looked like he was going to be sick. "...sir?"

_"Come here and help me."_ His voice seethed out of him. Pearson stepped forward, limbs moving jerkily. His eyes were fixed on Vera's face. "Take her, hold her in place." He looked down at her as she trembled, her vision slowly returning. Her throat felt like it had been crushed. She sobbed out her agony, curling away from them on the floor. Ryan knelt beside her, his hands shaking as they reached out to her. One wrapped around her upper arm and pressed down. The other made a fist in her hair, forcing her head against the floor. She cringed away from him, her tears falling onto the cement floor. He swallowed the lump in his throat. 

Her captor got to his feet, his hand moving through his hair again. "I think it's time we get you out of those cuffs, Vera, don't you? You've spent a few days in them, those wrists look so raw." His eyes moved along the wall. Ryan's thumb moved soothingly in circles on her arm. She trembled. "I think we'll get you into some rope instead." He went to the wall and took down a coil of rope that he ran gently through his hands a few times as he returned to her side. "We'll do silk, to start out. You were so good today...the last five minutes notwithstanding." He leered at her. 

He reached in his pocket and drew out a handcuff key. As he knelt beside the anchor on the floor, his eyes found Ryan's. "Hold her, Pearson. We're going sit her up and tie her hands behind her back." Ryan nodded, his eyes widening enthusiastically. Vera squeezed her eyes shut so she couldn't have to see it.

Ryan jerked her up by her hair, forcing her upwards until she was sitting, her wrists pulling tight against the handcuffs. He knelt behind her, his hand twisting, forcing her head back. His other hand moved down her arm and locked around her wrist as her captor unlocked the cuffs. He fought back a hiss as they came away, revealing raw, bleeding skin. 

Her captor _tsk_ ed. "That wouldn't have happened if you'd been good, Vera," he crooned into her ear. Ryan forced one arm behind her back and his other hand left her hair to pull back the other one. She whimpered. He held out her arms behind her so the other man could wind the rope around her wrists, looping around and through them until he pulled it tight. She keened weakly at the feeling on her open, bleeding skin. “I’ll just have to wash the blood out later,” he murmured. He fed out a few feet of rope and nodded to Ryan. "Feet, too. Then we tie her down to the anchor here." 

Ryan nodded, licking his lips. He yanked her up by her arm, dragging her on her knees until the was turned around, the anchor point between her feet. She bit down a wail. Leaving a few inches of slack, they tied her ankles together and knotted the rope around the anchor in the floor. _Not quite hogtied, but I can't stand up._ She sagged forward, her head drooping as tears ran down her nose onto the floor. 

Her captor breathed out a sigh. "She looks so good on her knees, doesn't she?"

Ryan gagged. As the man looked at him he turned it into a full-body shudder, eyes moving over her in a look that could not have been anything other than lust. "Yes sir," he whispered. His eyebrows pulled together. "But...what am I doing here? Do you have to leave...?" He was trembling, his hands locked into fists.

The man threw his head back and laughed. "No, Pearson. I don't have somewhere else to be. No, you are here early..." He stepped to Vera's side, pulling her head back slowly. "Because your efforts with her leave something to be desired."

Ryan's eyes went wide. "Sir, I...I apologize if I -"

He held up a hand. "No need to apologize. I assume this is your first time with this sort of thing, and it needs to be... _coached_...sometimes." His lips pulled back in a grin. "I'm going to help you."

"Thank you, sir." He sounded anything but relieved. His voice was tight with dread. He kept his eyes locked on the other man. "It's just that I..."

_No._ Vera's eyes snapped to his, panicked. _Sell this, or you die and I lose my one chance to get out._

Ryan swallowed. "It's just that...well..." His gaze dropped to the floor in a look of perfect submission, a dog rolling over and exposing his belly to his alpha. "She's yours. I didn't want to overstep."

Vera let out a slow breath.

"Pearson." Her breath froze in her chest again at the dangerous tone in his voice. "Did I or did I not instruct you to do whatever you wished?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Then that is what I meant."

"Yes sir. I'm sorry, sir."

Her captor's lips pulled up into a smile. "No need for apologies. I'm going to help you. For the next few hours consider her yours, if it helps." He opened his arms, spreading them wide to include the whole room. "Where do you want to start?"

Ryan's throat bobbed as he moved his eyes around the room. "Usually I just...beat her, sir."

The man's eyebrow lifted. "And that is clearly not enough for my taste."

"Right." His jaw locked. He went to the wall and took down a knife, hand clenching around it. Her stomach dropped. _Would he really kill me, right here in front of him? Would he do that for me?_

"Oh, can't believe I forgot. First things first. Vera and I have been working on her rules. She did so well with them today. Vera, recite your rules."

She swallowed, her pain in her throat spiking. "Never speak without permission." Her voice was raspy. "Only eat or sleep when told to. Never scream unless you let me." She swallowed, her chest clenching in panic. _What was my fourth rule?_

"Don't tell me you've forgotten one, sweetheart." The threat was clear in his voice. 

_"Take all punishments without complaint."_ The tears started again.

The man turned to Ryan with a grin. "Those are the rules she must follow. So. Do you give her permission to speak? To scream?"

"She can..." Ryan's voice dropped to a whisper. "She can scream." His eyes flicked to her for a moment. 

He turned back to her. "There you have it, Vera. You may scream for him." His lips pulled up. "Do not break your other rules, though." 

Ryan took a halting step towards her, then another, his jaw working the whole way, the knife held tight in his fist. He knelt in front of her, a hand moving gently to her hair, pulling her head back. The knife went under her chin. She gasped as she felt the cold blade against her skin.

"Ah...Pearson. You'll recall what I said about not killing her."

"Yes, sir," he murmured, his eyes meeting hers, a tortured expression twisting his face. "I just like to see her afraid, is all."

He nodded approvingly. "Fair enough. But until I see what you can do with that knife, keep it away from any vital areas."

The knife lingered for a moment on her throat, gentle as a kiss. She squeezed her eyes shut. _Do it. Please._ Then it moved away. "Yes sir."

He pulled her towards him, leaning her forward until the rope tying her wrists and ankles together pulled tight. She whimpered. He brought the knife slowly to her arm, pressed down. She hissed as he dragged it over her skin. 

Her captor walked around so he could see Ryan's work. "Good, but you didn't break the skin. It takes more pressure than you thought, doesn’t it? But then, I don't have that one sharpened to a razor's edge. I like being able to play with that one with less risk of slicing too deep. Again." 

Ryan brought the knife back to her arm, cutting her this time in a line parallel to the first. She whimpered.

"Good. The trick is not cutting so deep she needs stitches. Plus, cuts like that heal in such a lovely, thin line. Again."

He drew the knife across her arm again, just a little lower. Her skin split and a thick line of blood made its way down her arm. She cried out and felt his hand in her hair loosen. _Like an apology._

"That's as deep as you really should go. She'll need stitches if you cut any deeper. Try again. Try to get that exact depth."

He grit his teeth and made another cut, just below the previous one. Another line of blood rolled down her arm. "Please..." she whimpered. 

"Please _what."_ The words lashed out like a physical blow and she quailed under them, her captor's eyes flashing. Ryan froze.

"Please... _stop_..." she whispered. 

He stepped behind her, pulling her head out of Ryan's grasp, back further, until it rested against his leg. He pulled her chin up until she was forced to look at him. "What's rule number four?" he growled.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Take all punishments without complaint." The last word was a sob. 

"Which means you do not beg for him to stop." He pulled her head back harder, straining her neck. 

"I'm sorry," she pleaded. "Please..."

_"Please what."_ He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back so hard her vision went white for a moment. "The only time I want to hear you beg is when you're _begging me to punish you."_

Tears rolled down her temples into her hair. She pressed her trembling lips together. 

"Do you want me to punish you for that?"

_I can't. I can't. "No,"_ she wailed. 

He jerked her head forward so she had to look at Ryan. "Then _beg him_ to hurt you, or I will do it for him."

She stared up at him, tears streaming down her face, sobs rising in her throat. He moved his head infinitesimally up, then down. Held her gaze. Locked his jaw. 

Her eyes slid closed and she licked her lips. _"Please,"_ she whispered. "Please, Ry- Pearson." Her throat nearly closed with panic. _Pearson._ "Please hurt me."

The hand in her hair jerked viciously. "Do better."

A low whine started in her throat. "Please," she sobbed. "Pearson, please...hurt me...punish me, _please, please..."_ Her voice rose in pitch. _Don't let him hurt me, please. Don't let him. "Please."_

Her captor looked up at Ryan, a grin twisting his features. "Are you satisfied?" 

Ryan's eyes were dark, his mouth hanging open with a look of pure _want_ that was almost indecent in its shamelessness. "Yes, sir," he murmured in a low, husky voice. 

"Then," the other man purred. "Let's continue."


	11. Sadistic choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all... be careful with this one. Explicit noncon on multiple levels

Vera shivered, the rope pulling tight against her wrists as she sagged forward. She could barely stay upright. The blood running down her skin was starting to cool, congealing and drying in lines down her arms. Her breathing came in hitched sobs. Her face was slick with tears and sweat.

Ryan stood over her, the knife still held tight in his fist. The edge was stained with her blood. His throat worked as he tried to swallow his own sobs, quivering with the effort of holding the facial expression he knew he needed to make: satisfaction.

Watching them both was the other man. He wore a smile that took up his whole face.

Ryan blew out a slow breath. _“Fuck,”_ he whispered.

The man smiled. “Magnificent, isn’t she? When she’s bleeding?”

Vera cringed down closer to the floor, the rope pulling tighter around her wrists. She mewled weakly. _Please, let it stop. Just let me fucking die._

Ryan licked his lips. “Yes.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said a little louder.

The man was watching him intently, watching the strain in his features as he forced himself to look at her. “You don’t look satisfied, Pearson.”

He jerked his head side to side. “I…I am, sir. Thank you for this. This was…” He swallowed hard.

The man smiled. “You don’t have to be finished, if you don’t want to.” He took a slow step towards Vera, then another. She whimpered as he gently grasped her hair and pulled her up until Ryan could see her face. Her eyes were dull with pain. His stomach heaved.

The man’s grin widened. “You want her, don’t you?”

Vera’s eyes slid shut, tears rolling down both cheeks. _So this is how it happens. This is when he makes him do it._ She shuddered, pitching forward against the grip on her hair. Her captor yanked her upright. She cried out, the sound dying quickly on her lips.

Ryan made a sound low in his throat. “Um…”

The man jerked her head up, exposing her neck. His hand wrapped gently around her throat as he watched Ryan’s reaction. He paled. “It’s alright to want her. And…” He squatted down beside her, his thumb stroking down her throat. “…it’s alright to have her.” His hand tightened in her hair and he kissed her on the mouth, hard.

She whimpered, straining away from him. She squeezed her eyes shut. “No…” she whispered.

He stood over her and viciously jerked her head back. _“What are your rules, Vera?”_

She sobbed quietly. “Never s-speak without per, permission. Only eat or s-sleep when you let me. N-never scre-eam without permission. Take all…” She swallowed a sob. “Take all punishments without c-complaint.”

“And _what did you just do?”_

She dissolved into a wail. “I didn’t, please…I wasn’t complaining, please don’t…”

_“Bad girl, Vera.”_ Ryan shuddered at the sound of the man’s growl. “You were being so good for Pearson. So good. _Don’t…”_ His hand twisted in her hair. “…disobey now.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’ll…I’ll be good…” Her lips trembled.

He turned back to Ryan. “Even when she’s disobedient, do you still want her?” He showed his teeth in a grin.

“I…”

“No no no…please…” The pleas dropped from her lips and she felt powerless to stop them.

_“Vera.”_ They both flinched as his voice echoed around the room. “I’ve given you the opportunity to be good. I’ve given you the chance. And still, you disobey. Now I have to _make you good.”_

_“No!”_ she sobbed. “Please, no…I’ve been good, _please...”_ She sagged against the ropes.

He knelt in front of her, gently taking her chin in his hand. He licked his lips, watching the tears run down her face. “You _have_ been good,” he murmured. “But you still need to be punished. I need to make you better. So I offer you a choice. Me…?” He turned her face up to Ryan. “…or him?” Ryan’s eyes went wide, his throat closing in horror. He stared at her helplessly.

She shook her head against his grip. “No…” she whispered. _I can’t. I can’t take it._

His fingers dug into her jaw. “I’m giving you a choice, Vera, because you _have_ been good today. Do _not_ make me regret it.”

_“No…”_ Her voice broke. _Not Ryan. Please._

His lips curled in a snarl. _“Be grateful for this choice, Vera._ Who do you choose to make you better? Me, or him?” His eyes flicked to her lips. “Choose or we will both do it.”

Her throat spasmed around a sob. She raised her eyes to Ryan. He was staring at her, stock still, face twisted in agony. He looked like he was being burned alive. His breaths were coming faster now, too. He was shaking his head slowly, disbelieving. He blinked quickly against the tears pooling in his eyes.

A scream tore from her throat as she doubled over, horror twisting her gut. Her stomach heaved, but nothing came up. Every breath felt like it was burning her on the way down.

_“Ryan,”_ she whispered towards the floor.

The man leaned closer, his hand moving gently through her hair. “What was that, sweetheart?”

She swallowed hard, convulsing in a full-body shudder. “I want Pearson to do it,” she rasped.

The man stepped away, presenting her to Ryan with open hands. He was smiling. “Don’t worry, this still falls under ‘breaking her in.’ You don’t have to worry about any nonsense about ownership, or anything like that. I gave you this assignment so you could help me. So.” He took a step towards Ryan. “Help me.”

“Sir, I don’t think I can…” Ryan’s voice gave out.

The man’s lips pulled into a sympathetic half-smile. “It’s alright to want what you want,” he said gently. “I am not here to judge you. I am here to _teach_ you.”

Ryan licked his lips and threw out a desperate, last-ditch effort. “I don’t think I can do it with you…um…watching me.”

Her captor’s voice sunk lower, smoothing out until the threat trembled just below the surface. “Your work with her to this point has been less than acceptable. I am telling you my expectations. I see the way you’ve been looking at her. I know you want her. If you insist on maintaining some arbitrary social agreement when doing so betrays your own desires and directly contradicts my orders, we are going to have to have a very different conversation. I have expectations of my employees, Pearson.” He stepped to the side, holding his hand out towards Vera. “Now. _Fill them.”_

Pearson swallowed hard, sweat dampening his shirt despite the cold. “Yes sir. I apologize. I…” He raised his eyes to look at her. “I… _appreciate_ all that you offer.” A shadow fell across his face as he took a step towards her, then another, until he stood over her. She was heaving forward with sobs, tears darkening the cement floor below her. He knelt beside her, a shaking hand going gently to her face. She shuddered away from it, wailing softly. He placed the knife on the floor beside her.

He pressed his face into her hair, his mouth at her ear. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, so quietly the sound didn’t travel above her sobs. Then he hardened his face and plastered on a smile.

He turned to her captor. “I want her out of the ropes, sir. Please. She mentioned something to me night before last, something I’ve been…” He pressed his eyes closed and huffed out a heavy exhale. “… _thinking_ about since she mentioned it.” His eyes traveled to the wall that was still marked with her blood, where he had pinned her. “She mentioned you asked her if I fucked her there.” He turned his eyes to the man, looking slightly dazed. “And I want to.”

The man’s smile widened until he began to laugh. “Excellent, Pearson.”

She crumpled. _No. I told him about that and he…he used it…_ Her chest burned with bitter despair.

“Should I untie her? Or…” He picked up the knife.

“No.” The man stepped forward, a hand out. “Don’t cut it. Good silk rope is not something to be cut.” He winked at Ryan. “I’ll just have someone wash the blood out and it’ll be good as new.”

“Yes, sir.” His hands went to her wrists, gently working the knots loose. She was gasping with sobs, inconsolable.

“Something to keep in mind, Pearson, is control. Do you want her making that noise? If you don’t, tell her to stop.”

His hand tightened on her wrist and he stared at the floor. His mouth was dry. He could barely get the words out past the lump in his throat. “I…like the sounds she makes, sir. I know you want her to be quiet, but…”

“No, it’s good for her to have to be flexible. She’s good when she obeys, not when she develops habits.”

Ryan shivered, his body locking up against the words. He squeezed his eyes shut. He drew in a slow breath and blew it out through trembling lips. “Yes, sir.” He finished untying her wrists and she fell forward, catching herself on her hands.

She cried out as her muscles moved, her shoulders throbbing from being twisted back for hours. Her arms shook and she nearly fell to the floor as Ryan’s hands moved to her ankles.

“No no no…” she pleaded.

_“Shut up,”_ Ryan snapped. She cringed away from the vicious tone in his voice. _He wants to keep me safe, he wants to keep_ him _from doing it, from hurting me…_ She felt dizzy as the thought moved through her head, unprompted, but she knew it was true.

Her mouth seemed to be running completely outside of her control. “Please,” she whispered. It was like her body had taken over for her, was pushing away from this, was doing anything it could to make it stop. _As if anything could make it stop._

To her absolute shock, he grabbed her hair and yanked her back until she was kneeling again. _“Shut the fuck up,”_ he growled.

She was out of her mind with fear. “Please…”

His hand _crack_ ed across her face. She fell silent with a gasp.

“If you beg me to stop one more time, I’m going to _fucking_ gag you.” She looked up, met his eyes for a moment. Her chest ached as she realized he wasn’t wearing an expression of lust or anger. He was wearing an expression of _desperation_. His hand trembled in her hair. He looked like he was on the edge of breaking, the edge of refusing to do it and suffering the consequences. He moved his head side to side in such a small motion she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. She raised her eyes to the man standing behind him, leering down at her. _He has to do it. I can’t take it if_ he _does it. I can’t._ She swallowed, pressing her lips together. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She nodded.

He shoved her down against the floor and went back to work untying her feet. As the rope came free a sound came from her throat, broken and twisted. A sound of _relief._

Ryan’s hand made a fist in her hair and he started to drag her towards the wall.

She cried out and stumbled behind him, trying to get her feet under her and failing. Her legs felt loose, not quite connected at the joints. Her knees and back were screaming at her.

“You might want to restrain her hands at least,” came the smooth voice from behind them. “Being so close to the knives. She can be… _motivated_ …when she fights back.”

Ryan closed his eyes, his hand trembling against her scalp. His grip faltered for a moment. He bit down on his tongue until he could taste blood. He turned to face the man. “Yes, sir. I think that would be a good idea. Maybe a shorter length of rope?”

He smiled. “Perfect.” He went to the wall and pulled down a smaller bundle of rope and handed it off to Ryan.

Ryan unwound it and ran it through his hands a few times. His jaw clenched as he turned back to her again. “Give me your hands.”

She sunk into the floor, chest wracked with sobs. “Please…” _Not that. Please…please don’t tie me up…_

Ryan’s hand closed around her neck, choking off her words. “What did I _fucking say_ about begging?”

She gasped raggedly against his hand. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. “I’m sorry.”

“Then give me your _fucking_ hands.” His throat worked as he fought down a sob.

She held them up, shaking with the effort. He wound the rope a few times around her wrists and tied it tight. She groaned as he pulled her to her feet. She wobbled and fell against him, her bound hands pressing against his chest.

His hands went to her shoulders and he pushed her backwards. She wailed miserably, tears staining the front of her shirt, as her back met the wall. Agony shot through her lash marks as he pressed her almost gently against the wall. A helpless whimper died in her throat. She leaned her head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.

He pulled her wrists over his head and around his neck. She pressed her lips together as she felt the words, the pleas, clawing their way up her throat from her chest, aching and aching and aching. Her knees buckled and he held her up against the wall. She could feel his breath on her face, fast and shallow. His face worked as he fought back tears.

_He won’t be able to._ She wasn’t sure if the thought came as a hope, or a wave of terror. _He…he can’t. But if he doesn’t,_ he _will._ She clenched her jaw so hard her teeth hurt.

Ryan bent over her, his back curving down as he pressed his lips against her shoulder. She whimpered and turned her head away. He felt him press up against her, trembling with the friction. _Please don’t, please do it, please don’t, please do it…_ She didn’t know if she was hoping for him to refuse, or for him to fuck her. _If he doesn’t, then_ he’ll _do it. And I…I can’t. I can’t feel him inside me again. Let it be Ryan. Please, let it be Ryan._

She shuddered in revulsion as she felt him becoming hard against her. _No, god no, please…_ His hands moved from her waist, down to her hips, squeezing along her thighs. Her head fell against his shoulder and she sobbed as he picked her up, lifting her several inches above the floor before he braced himself against her, pinning her to the wall.

With one hand still locked around her thigh, his other hand went to the front of his pants. She shuddered as he pulled the waistband of her sweatpants down around her hips, exposing her sex.

“No,” she whispered, her lips against his shoulder.

He shuddered and ground his teeth together, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered back, voice shaking, the sound covered by her sob. He found her opening and pressed himself inside her.

She convulsed in a full-body spasm as he filled her up, her stomach dropping with the invasion. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in his shoulder, her arms squeezing tight around his neck as he began to thrust into her. He whimpered as he moved against her, pressing his face into her shirt at her neck. He left tear stains in the fabric when he pulled away.

She ached where he was moving inside her, each thrust sending a wave of sickness through her. Her stomach clenched and she gagged. His hands tightened on her thighs and he braced her higher against the wall.

Her sobs tore from her throat in time to his thrusts, tears running into his shirt. The pain spiked inside her as his gripped faltered for a moment and she slipped down the wall and fell hard onto him, the bruises from her assault the day before throbbing as he punched into her. She sunk her teeth into his shoulder to muffle her scream.

He was grunting, rutting into her, sweating through his thin shirt. Her tears burned on her cheeks and she prayed for it to end. _Please please please please please please no._

Just as she was breaking, going out of her mind with horror, his breath caught in his chest. He took a shuddering gasp and bucked his hips into her, mouth falling open as he came with a sob. He pressed her against the wall, quivering, panting hard. His mouth was dry. She turned her face away from him as he let his forehead rest against the wall over her shoulder. She trembled against him, her mouth pulled open in a silent scream.

Ryan convulsed against her and pulled away, quickly tucking himself in his pants. Without thinking his hands moved to her waistband and pulled, covering her again. His hands shook as he eased her down to the ground. She dropped from his grip and collapsed bonelessly to the floor.

Ryan squeezed his hands into fists and arranged his face before turned back to her captor. His mouth hung open, his pupils wide.

“How do you feel?” came the voice that made him shudder.

“Um…” He licked his lips, forcing his mouth into a smile. “Incredible, sir. Thank you.”

The man grinned at him. “You’re very welcome. You’re welcome to do that any time you deem it necessary. Look at her now.”

His eyes slid closed for a moment. He turned to her, forcing himself to look through the tears that suddenly blurred his vision. He watched as she trembled on the floor, silent, unmoving. Broken. The man took a step towards him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Look how good you made her,” he whispered.

Bile rose suddenly in Ryan’s throat.

The man gathered the long length of rope in hand and swept towards the door. “You did well today, Pearson,” he said as he looked back. He nodded in Vera’s direction. “You’re welcome to keep her tied up if you want, or put her back in cuffs. Or do whatever you wish.” He grinned. “I hope you see now the liberties I allow you – and expect you – to take with her.” His smile grew wider. “Just don’t kill her.” He turned to go. “Good night, sweetheart.” The door closed behind him.

Ryan fell to his knees, his eyes locked on Vera where she lay slumped on the floor. He pressed his hands into his face and sobbed.


	12. Leave me alone

Ryan teetered on his knees, feeling at any moment he would fall over and into the abyss. His gaze was riveted to the floor, fixed as if his life depended on it just feet away from Vera. He couldn’t look at her. He felt like the sight of her would burn his eyes out. His head throbbed and shame poured through him like a river.

His insides threatened to burst out of him, roiling and hot and tearing him apart. He wasn’t even sure how he was breathing with his lungs on fire.

He felt just slightly out of his body, chased out by the disgust for himself that crushed him…and the _violation._ He grit his teeth. _I don’t deserve to feel violated. I’m the one that did that to her…I…_ His eyes flicked to the wall, marked with her blood and his shame, and he quivered, sinking to the floor with eyes squeezed shut. _I did that to her. I_ raped her. _And that monster_ watched.

His throat ached with the effort to keep his sobs down. _I don’t deserve to fucking_ cry. He looked at her through his lashes, his face inches from the floor as he bent in shame. _I raped her. Stormbeck brought her here to be nothing but tortured and I_ helped him.

He curled into himself, pressing his forehead against the floor, his face in his hands. _I deserve to fucking die._

She was silent, lying crumpled on the floor where he’d dropped her. Her hands were pulled tight into fists against the rope still binding her wrists. Her eyes were half open and glazed over, her mouth hanging open in shock. He lifted his head, trembling as he forced himself to look at her.

_I can’t leave her like that._

He closed his eyes and tears ran down his cheeks. He licked his lips. “Vera.”

She didn’t move, didn’t respond. She blinked slowly.

He pressed his lips together, hate for himself pouring hot and corrosive through his veins. “Vera, I…”

“I know,” she rasped.

He whimpered. “I…I want to untie you. Can I just…” He pushed himself up to his knees, his hands held out to his sides, open. “Let me please just untie you.” She didn’t respond. He pushed himself up to his feet and stumbled to her side. His legs gave out next to her and he fell to his knees beside her. She flinched weakly.

“Please, I…I’m not gonna touch you again, just let me do this…” His hands were shaking as she reached out to her wrists and began to work at the knot.

“I told you he would make you do it,” she whispered. A slow tear made its way down the side of her face and onto the floor.

He closed his eyes. “I know.” He bit his lip, flinching slightly as the pain flared where he’d bitten it before. “I’m s-” He swallowed. “Is it meaningless to say I’m sorry?”

She shook her head against the floor. “No.”

“Then I’m sorry.” He caught the last word as it twisted into a sob.

The rope around her wrists came loose. She wet her lips and cast her eyes up at him. “It wasn’t as bad as when he did it.”

Ryan ducked his head, bracing himself against the wave of horror that ripped through him at the words. “Please…” He stopped himself. _She can say whatever she wants._

“You didn’t choke me,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “And you only hit me when -”

“I’m so _sorry,”_ he moaned. “I didn’t know what he would make me do if you kept begging, I didn’t know if he’d…make me do worse…” He pressed his hand to his mouth, forcing back the sobs. “I didn’t know if I could…do it…if you kept begging…” _I don’t deserve to be fucking upset. She’s the one hurting, not me. I’m the monster here. I haven’t been fucking_ hurt.

“You should have gagged me,” she murmured. Her gaze drifted.

“I will, next -” A wave of nausea punched through Ryan and he leaned away from her, gagging. _Next time I rape you, I promise I’ll gag you._

“I can’t stop myself from screaming.” Her voice was flat. “I couldn’t stop myself from begging.” She turned her head to look in his direction. “Why did you let me scream?”

“Because I…” He glanced at his hands. They were stained with her blood. “I was torturing you. You deserve to be…able to scream.” He closed his eyes against the jagged edges of the words. “I didn’t want to take that away, too.”

There was a pause. “Thank you.” That same, flat voice.

He shuddered. “Please don’t…say that. Ever.” He clenched his jaw. _She can say whatever she wants. She should curse me, scream at me, call me a torturer and a rapist and sick, sick motherfucker…_ He dizzily got to his feet and walked across the room, sitting against the opposite wall. As far away from her as he could get.

She looked at her wrists. “You’re not going to cuff me?”

“No,” he murmured.

She looked up at him slowly. “…you’re not worried about me killing you?”

_I would deserve it._ He shook his head. “No.”

“You’re not worried about me trying to escape?”

His chin quivered. “I already told you, you’d never make it. But if you want the right to die the way you choose, then I’m not going to stop you.” His voice started to fail. “You have that right.”

She pushed herself painfully until she was braced against the wall. She stared at him, her eyes burning on his face until he finally forced himself to meet her gaze. “I thought you were going to get me out,” she whispered.

"I am.” He nodded, the back of his head grinding against the wall. “I’m going to find a way. I can’t leave you here. I can’t…” His hand ran through his hair. “I can’t do this to you.”

“You’d rather die?” Her throat clicked as she swallowed.

“Yeah.” He ran his hand over his face. “I guess so.”

A tear ran slowly down her cheek. “Promise me.”

His throat was tight. “I will.”

“No, promise me…” Her eyes closed. “Promise me you’ll kill me if you can’t get me out.”

His lips trembled. “Vera, please…”

His eyes flicked to her as she forced down a sob. “Please, Ryan. I know he’s gonna kill me at some point, accident or not. He’s going to choke me too hard, cut me too deep…or he’s just going to get bored.” She stared at him, a desperate plea in her eyes. “I don’t want him to be the one to do it, if it happens. So promise me, please, that if you can’t get me out you’ll be the one to kill me.”

He pressed his face into his hands. “I…I’ve never killed anyone before.”

Her eyes remained fixed on him. “Please.”

His hands moved through his hair. “He’ll kill me for that, too.” She didn’t say anything. Just pinned him down with her gaze. He pushed a slow breath out through his lips. “I’m not dying for that. I’m going to get you out.”

“Promise me,” she whispered. She trembled against the wall.

Tears burned in his eyes. “I promise I’ll kill you if I can’t get you out.” He met her gaze, a dull heat moving in his chest. “But I’m getting you out.”

She wet her lips. “How?”

His head fell back into his hands. “I don’t know. The biggest issue is the cameras. I’d need to find a way to take them out.” His head snapped up. “Or get someone I trust into the room when it’s time.”

“How?”

He licked his lips. “I’ve got a buddy looking for a job. I could try to get him one here. Get him assigned with me. Maybe that could work.”

“What else would be in the way?”

“His security, for one.”

“I thought you were his security?”

He chuckled darkly. “I am. But he’s got others. Watching the house, patrolling.”

“Why does he need so much security? It’s not like the police know who he is…” Her voice was sharp with bitterness. “Wait…” She sat straight up against the wall. “I need you to get in touch with Chris. My handler.”

He laid his head back against the wall. “You just don’t fucking care about hiding that you’re a cop anymore, do you?”

She gritted her teeth. “He executed me over the phone with Chris listening. I don’t exactly have a lot to hide anymore.”

Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

Her hands balled into fists. “He called my handler. Tortured me while he listened until Chris basically told him I’m a cop. Then he uh…” She shuddered. “He fired a blank and choked me so I couldn’t scream. He made Chris think I was dead and threatened his family if he came looking for me.”

“What the…fuck…” he breathed.

“You have to find him.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that? Just go to the police?” He snorted. “That’s a fucking good way to get killed.”

“I don’t know how. But he can help. Please…” She licked her lips. “He can help you.”

“And we can, what, storm the place?” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “He’d kill you before they got through the gate.”

“There’s a hostage situation in this building. They deal with this sort of thing all the time.”

“They’ve never dealt with someone like him.” He rubbed his eyes.

She stared at him for a moment. “Why did you take this job?”

“I didn’t know it was…” His lip trembled and he stared at the floor. “I didn’t know.”

“What did you think it was?”

He threw his hands in the air. “Just a…fucking… _security job_ …”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “So you got hired on as a thug.”

“I mean, yeah!” He shrugged. “Stand around, look intimidating, rough up people who get too close…” He ran his hands through his hair.

“You’re not that intimidating.”

He glared at her. “I’m four inches taller than you. At least.”

“How tall are you?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“6’2”.”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “Fine.”

“How tall are you?”

She pursed her lips. “5’9”.”

“Five inches!” He threw up his hands like that settled it.

She looked away, crossing her arms in front of her. “You’re still not intimidating,” she mumbled.

He laughed. “The fuck does height have anything to do with it? I can kick your ass in a fight.” He froze, icy shame gripping his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

She shrugged. “No, you’re right. You _can_ kick my ass in a fight.” She rested her head back against the wall.

He lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry.” His hands trembled and he twisted them together. “I didn’t know, I swear to _god_ I didn’t know what this was when I took the job.”

Her lip curled. “You didn’t know what it was when you showed up to find whip marks on me? When I _hadn’t_ been beaten to a bloody pulp in that alley until I’d broken and then been shot? _That’s_ how you handle somebody you think is a cop.” Her voice rose in volume. “You didn’t know what this was when you showed up in this fucking _nightmare factory?”_ She blinked against angry tears.

He hung his head in shame. “I…didn’t…”

She shuddered against the rage that swelled in her chest, the disgust, the revulsion at the smell and _feel_ of the other man, of _Ryan,_ sitting just across the room probably still smelling of her, too, holding her down and raping her. And the horror in her stomach as she knew it would happen again. “You didn’t _what?”_ she hissed.

“I didn’t… _want_ …to believe it…” He forced himself to look at her and shriveled under the contempt in her eyes. “I swear to god I didn’t know and then…when I saw this…” He cast his gaze around the room. “I thought…maybe it was just for intimidation…that he just wanted to scare you until you admitted who you were so he could kill you and move on with business…” He swiped his hand at the tears that continued to fall. Shame roiled in his stomach. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have…” His head fell into his hands. “I don’t know. I should have…”

Vera dragged in a breath through her spasming throat. She wouldn’t look at him. “You’re right. You should have.” She turned away from him. “Just…leave me alone. I don’t want your pity, I don’t want your _fucking_ guilt…” She shivered and curled in on herself against the wall. “Figure out how you’re going to get me out of here. Until then you can just fuck off.”

He nodded, closing his eyes. He leaned back and two tears ran down into his hair. “Ok,” he whispered. “Ok.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for noncon fingering and noncon orgasm denial

“Vera.”

She moaned against the floor, trembling under the crushing weight of the man straddling her back. His hand was fisted in her hair, forcing her cheek against the cold cement of the floor. His other hand held a rag that he’d soaked in alcohol. The rag hovered inches above her skin, torn open with the whip days ago. She shivered against the cold cement on her bare chest.

“Vera, you need to answer me. What are your rules?”

She whimpered. “Never speak without permission. Only eat or sleep when you tell me to. Never scream unless you let me. Take all punishments without complaint.” Her voice was strained with agony.

“Good girl.” His hand softened in her hair, stroking gently through. It was tangled and stiff with sweat and blood. He pressed the alcohol-soaked rag against the half-healed welts on her back.

She screamed and writhed under him.

“Bad girl, Vera.” He jerked her head back with a hand in her hair, twisting her neck. Her scream died into a strangled cry. “I didn’t give you permission to scream, did I?”

“No,” she whispered. He slowly lowered her head to the floor. “No.”

“Then don’t scream.” The rag touched her back again.

She bit down on her lip, sweat beading on her skin as she forced down the guttural cry that boiled in her throat. She strained against the handcuffs, clamped tight around her wrists and dragging her arms out in front of her.

“Good.” He moved the cloth across her back. She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that had started. Back and forth he moved that burning rag, and fire crept up her back and down into her bones. Grew in intensity, until it felt like she would die from the pain.

He clicked his tongue. “I need to get you cleaned up.” His hand smoothed gently along her hairline. “You’re a bit of a mess.”

She bit her tongue, bitter fury aching in her chest. _I fucking wonder why._

The rag left her back. Alcohol still burned in the wounds and she shuddered. “Wouldn’t you like to know why?”

_He didn’t give me permission to speak._ She pressed her lips together.

He smiled contentedly. “Good girl. I need to get you cleaned up because you’re going to do something very special for me tonight.” Her eyes slid closed and a whimper died in her throat. “I have some friends coming over and it’s my turn to provide the entertainment. I need you to be very, very good for me tonight, do you understand?”

“No,” she whispered, turning her face to the floor. A sob rose up in her. “No…”

He grabbed her hair and yanked her up, arching her back painfully and making her wrists pull tight against the handcuffs. “First rule, Vera.”

“N-never speak without permission.” She gasped against the pain. He shoved her back against the floor. She grunted as he leaned his hand against the welts on her back and pressed.

“There’s a small washroom in the corner here. I’m going to get you cleaned up and then you’re going to be very, very good when my guests arrive.” He reached for the handcuffs, unclasping the cuff that held her to the floor. He got off of her and dragged her towards the corner of the room.

She kicked her legs against the floor. _I’m not chained down, I can get away, if I can just…_ She screamed her frustration as he heaved her across the floor. She trembled at the pain, the exhaustion, the _terror_ of the last few days as she realized she could barely stand. She collapsed against the floor, dry sobs catching in her throat.

He pulled at a handle in the wall that she had never noticed before, and a door slid open to reveal another tiny room with a low ceiling. There was only an industrial-looking tub against the back wall, and a water spigot on the wall just above it. He yanked her upright and forced her towards the tub.

_“No…”_ She twisted away from his grasp, hands scrabbling against the frame of the door.

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her waist and heaving her further into the room. Tears blurred her vision as he picked her up and hurled her into the tub. The impact knocked the wind out of her for a moment. Her mouth gaped for air. He had his knife out of his pocket in an instant and pressed it under her chin.

“Bad girl, Vera,” he growled. With one hand he yanked her sweatpants off, pulling them off her legs one by one. He tossed them into the corner. She whimpered at the exposure, naked now, tears spilling down her cheeks. He dragged her towards the spigot with a hand in her hair, the knife still held firmly against her throat. He braced her against the side of the tub and pressed the knife into her skin, pinning her to the side. She went perfectly still. She didn’t dare to breathe.

He turned on the spigot and she spasmed against the cold water as it jetted onto her. She flinched as the knife cut into her neck and stiffened again.

He wrapped his hand around the chain between her wrists and pulled her hands up over her head. Her eyes followed his hand up as he clipped the cuffs into an anchor loop bolted to the wall. She experimentally pulled against the cuffs. _There’s enough slack that he could still force my head underwater._ She swallowed hard.

“My work with you has been hard,” he said softly, almost gently. The water level in the tub was rising. She shivered against the chill as it crept up her body. “And for the most part you’ve been doing well. That’s why I feel comfortable having my friends over. I think you’ll be good enough for them that you won’t embarrass me.” He reached for a bottle against the wall and poured something into his hand. The smell filled the small room. _Shampoo._ She shuddered.

He placed a hand under her chin and raised it until she was looking up at him. “If you don’t,” he murmured, “I will have to make you good. I will do it in front of them, and I will do it again and again until you’re bleeding. Do you understand?”

She convulsed forward, stomach heaving against the thought. _I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t…_ Tears leaked down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut.

His hand tightened on her jaw and jerked her head up again. “Do you understand, Vera?”

She nodded. Something was tightening in her chest, constricting her breathing. She dragged in a shuddering gasp.

“Good.” His hand moved to her hair and he pulled her head back.

She stiffened against his hand, chest locking against the cold that was now creeping up her ribcage. _No no no no no no…_ She pulled on the cuffs.

“No…bad girl…let me wash you.” He looked down at her calmly, his palm full of shampoo still hanging in the air above the tub. She squeezed her eyes shut and let herself be guided back into the water. Her breaths came in shallow gasps as the water crept up her neck, swirling around the back of her head, running into her ears. She broke in a whimper as the water touched the sides of her face.

Then it stopped. He pulled her back up out of the water and began to work the shampoo into her hair. She shuddered against the gentle touch, the soft and rhythmic massage of his fingertips as he lathered her hair, her hairline, behind her ears and down her neck…

She swallowed bile as it clawed up her throat as a wave of pleasure washed over her. She shrunk into herself, her hands pulling against the cuffs as she instinctively tried to cover herself, laid bare and helpless against the intimacy of the simple action. _It’s ok to feel good when he’s not hurting me. It’s ok. It’s ok to feel good. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean…_ She shuddered.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and guided her head back again. He washed the suds from her hair and the bubbles spread out over the surface of the water. He reached for a rag and lathered it with a bar of soap. He rubbed the rag over her face, cleaning away the sweat and blood and tears that had been caked on. He pulled her face towards the spigot and held her under it for a few seconds, long enough to rinse away the soap. She trembled against the hand in her hair. _He could drown me, he could drown me…_ He pulled her out of the stream of water and she gasped her relief.

He moved the washcloth over her skin, down her neck, taking his time to admire the mess of bruises that marred her throat, across her shoulders. Again and again he wet the washcloth, lathered it, scrubbed it in circles across her skin. He washed her arms, stretched up overhead. The soap smarted against the rows of cuts Ryan had made with the knife. Her face flushed with shame and she turned away as he moved the cloth over her breasts, down her abdomen. He reached under the water to wash her legs. The water was becoming gray with filth.

Her muscles locked as he reached below the water to wash her sex. She kicked her legs clumsily, trying to push herself away from him. His hand went slowly to her neck. At the pressure on her throat she froze, a twisted little noise of terror making its way out. “Be good, Vera,” he said smoothly, his eyes cold and intense. She quailed under his gaze and forced herself to hold perfectly still as he reached under the water to wash her.

Her stomach dropped at the uninvited feeling. It felt _good,_ it was always meant to feel _good_ being touched there. She’d felt nothing but pain for days. She’d felt nothing but agony and torment and torture for _days_ and at the first soft touch, the first touch she’d had during all that time that wasn’t cruel and harsh… Her throat closed around a sigh.

Her captor’s mouth slid into a saccharine grin and he met her eyes. Her cheeks burned with an indecent flush as his lips pulled back over his teeth. “Do you like that, sweetheart?”

She whimpered and shook her head, her neck aching against his hand. “No…” she whispered. Her leg jerked against the side of the tub, splashing her a little.

“I think you do, Vera.” He put the washcloth to the side. “Be a good girl, sweetheart, and tell me the truth.” Keeping one hand wrapped around her throat in a feather-light grip, he reached under the water and found her sex.

She went rigid, her breath freezing in her chest. _No no no no no no…_ She bit her lip, turning her face away from him.

“You can make noises, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Let me hear you.”

“I don’t want this,” she whispered. A tendril of pleasure shimmered up from her pelvis, coiling in her stomach. It mixed with the acrid bitterness of her terror and her shameful relief that _this_ is what he was choosing to do, instead of drowning her, or beating her, or choking her. Her stomach lurched and she forced down a sob.

“Do you want me to punish you instead?” He pulled his hand out of the water and fixed his eyes on her. His voice carried the barest hints of a threat, the darkness moving deep below the surface.

She whimpered. “No…” She licked her lips and looked up to the ceiling. “Please no…”

His hand eased back into the water and he pressed a finger into her. She bucked at the invasion. “Vera,” he said softly, “be good…”

“I am, I _am,”_ she moaned. “Please…”

He massaged his finger into her, rubbing smooth circles on her clit with his thumb. She ached from the rapes before, the inside of her bruised and sensitive. She made a sound deep in her throat as the pain and pleasure twisted together in her mind and she could feel her body start to respond.

Her nipples hardened, already tight from the cold water. A deep wave of pleasure rolled through her, starting in her pelvis and moving up and into her throat. He worked his finger into her, crooking up, pressing against the sweet spot inside. She gasped, tears leaking as she shut her eyes. She heard him breathing heavy next to her.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart. I give you permission.” He sped up his circles.

She stifled a low cry. “I don’t want this,” she pleaded. “Please…I don’t want this, I don’t want this…”

“Yes you do, Vera.” Her eyes flew open to see him grinning down at her. “I can tell you do. I can feel you responding.”

She broke down into a sob. “But I _don’t,”_ she whimpered. “You’re making me, I don’t…I don’t want this, please just…stop…” She pulled weakly against the cuffs. “No…”

He chuckled. His hand moved from her throat and tangled in her hair, turning her head to the side. He added another finger just as he leaned forward and licked a stripe up her neck.

She gasped, mewling softly at the dual sensations. _“Please,”_ she begged. “Please stop, I don’t want this, please, _please…”_ He lowered his mouth and began kissing and sucking up her throat to her ear.

She writhed against the sensation. The sweet, golden glow was growing in her, rising, vibrating just beneath the surface. She gasped as she reached the crest of her pleasure.

His hand stopped his work at her clit. She moaned, throat tight with humiliation. She felt his breath on her ear. “Not yet, sweetheart. Not until you beg me.”

She gagged at the words. _“Fuck you.”_

He smiled. His hand got right back to work. She groaned as he found her opening again, his fingers moving gently and expertly along her folds, guiding her up the wave of her pleasure again. Her chest heaved as she trembled at the height of her ecstasy.

He pulled away again. She moaned out her despair, her frustration, her relief, all twisting together into a sound that made him close his eyes and grin. She wriggled against the hand in her hair as the sensation cooled within her.

“Come on, sweetheart. Just beg. Beg, and I’ll let you come.” She shook her head against his hand. He smiled and brought his hand to her sex again.

Over and over and over again, he brought her to the edge until she was practically crying from the sensation, moaning at his touch, tears of shame and betrayal rolling down her cheeks. She trembled against his hands until her limbs were tight with tension. Her very nerves felt like they were being frayed.

Over and over again he moved his hand under the water, licking his lips at the sound of her sigh of relief each time. He drank up her shame with his eyes, bringing her to the edge, pulling her back, bringing her there again.

She felt out of her mind with it. _Please, let it end. Just let it end._ Her eyes rolled back and her mouth pulled open as she fought back a cry of pleasure. She felt like she would shake apart. She felt like she would pass out. _He’s not going to stop. This isn’t going to stop until I beg him. Isn’t it better to just…get it over with…_ She sobbed out her terror and pleasure together in the same sound.

_“Please,”_ she begged. Immediately she felt the bitter wash of shame. She squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to see his triumph.

He grinned. “You want me to let you come?”

Her throat closed around a whimper. “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he purred. He stroked his fingers into her. “You can come. I give you permission.” He moved his fingers in expert circles inside her and against her clit, forcing her up into a wave of pleasure, making her pant and gasp as she approached her climax.

Part of her prayed that he would stop at the last second, that he would deprive her, that he would punish her that way. But he moved his fingers along her folds and against her clit until she was moaning, her vision going white, her body buzzing like she would shatter.

She broke under the wave of ecstasy that drowned her. She moaned obscenely as the agony dissolved into incandescent bliss, sweeping through her limbs and through her sex again and again, swirling through her chest as it heaved with shuddering sobs. He smiled as she shivered in the aftershocks.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his hand finally withdrawing from the water. He reached up to unclip the handcuffs from the wall. He dragged her up until she was standing, knees almost buckling with dizziness and shame. He reached over her head to clip them into another loop on the ceiling, just above the tub. She sobbed quietly, cringing in on herself as she was stretched out for him, exposed, naked, shivering.

He reached under the water to pull the plug. The water rushed quickly out of the tub. He put a bucket under the spigot and filled it as she shuddered in the cold air. When it was full he dumped it over her, rinsing the remaining soap off her. She shrieked and yanked hard against the cuffs, opening up the ragged skin. She wailed softly.

He unclipped the handcuffs from the ceiling and she collapsed into his arms. He half-carried her from the tub and lowered her to her knees. He reached for a towel hanging from a hook on the wall and scrubbed her dry. He roughly toweled her hair and put the towel back on the hook. She shivered violently in the cold. He yanked her to her feet again and dragged her back out into the cell. He shut the door to the little room behind him.

She was keening softly, shame twisting her insides and clouding her thoughts. _I begged him._ She bowed under her own disgust. _I begged him to let me come. I begged him. I wanted it._ Nausea coiled in her stomach.

He put her on her knees in the middle of the room, the anchor and extra pair of handcuffs just in front of her. He clipped her back in and stepped away, surveying her through amused eyes. His lips curled into a smile. His hand moved to her hair and stroked gently through. He pulled her face up until he could see her eyes.

“You were so good, sweetheart,” he crooned. “So good for me. I want to give you something.” He turned to the wall and took down a small cloth bag he had brought in with him that day and hung from one of the hooks. He reached inside at pulled something out that Vera struggled to see in the dim light. He ran it through his fingers a few times. It looked like a strip of leather with a buckle at one end, and a D ring halfway down its length. It was about an inch wide and a little less than a foot long. Vera’s throat closed with horror as she realized what it was.

A _collar._


	14. Choking

She bared her teeth at him. _“Fuck_ no,” she hissed at him. “Fuck that, fuck you. You’re not collaring me like a fucking _dog.”_

He tilted his head at her, amused. “I’m not collaring you like a _dog,_ Vera,” he crooned. “I’m collaring you like a _plaything.”_ He took another step towards her. “I want you to have a constant reminder of what you are, who you belong to.” He smirked. “It’s time. You’ve earned it.”

“Then I can unearn it, you piece of _shit.”_ The rage grew in her, fueled by the dark, clinging shame that twisted through her. “And I don’t _fucking_ care what you do to me, you’re not putting that on me.”

His face darkened as he advanced on her. “Be _good,_ Vera, or I will _make you good.”_

_“Fucking do it!”_ she screamed at him. “What, that’s your threat, you’re gonna rape me again? I don’t fucking care what you do, I don’t _fucking_ care, I’m not letting you put that _fucking_ thing on me!”

He closed the distance between them with one step and swung his hand back, crashing his fist against the side of her head, stunning her. She crumpled to the ground, stars shooting across her vision as her shoulders and wrists jerked cruelly against the pull of the handcuffs. She tasted blood for a moment before she realized she’d bitten the inside of her cheek.

He grabbed her ankle and dragged her away from the anchor, stretching her out and pulling her body taut against the tension. She shrieked as the cement ground against the cuts on her arms and rubbed a section of her hip raw. He shoved her onto her back and straddled her again. His hand went straight to her throat and he took away her air.

Terror poured through her blood, icy and burning and sharp. She gagged against his hand, eyes streaming, twisting hard away from him. His hand remained locked on her neck. Her mouth gaped open as she tried desperately to drag in air. She writhed under him, convulsing, trying to throw him off her. She bucked once. Twice. The edges of her vision were starting to turn white, a roiling, dragging darkness rising up again to pull her under.

_He’s going to kill me._ Her mind dissolved into horror as the air didn’t come, and didn’t come, as his hand pressed down and down and down and crushed her throat. Killing her. _He’s going to kill me. I’m going to die._ She strained so hard the skin of her wrists tore against the handcuffs, screaming in her mind that _I’m going to die, he’s going to kill me, and then he’ll put the collar on my fucking corpse just to prove he won._ She shuddered against his hand. She was blind with tears. Her lungs were on fire.

She drifted away.

She floated in the darkness, lost. Nonexistent. _I am nothing._

A light flickered in the back of her mind. She felt things coming back to her, slowly, one by one. The pain in her back. The pain in her throat. The pain her in her arms. The pain in her pelvis. The pain in her ribs. _Pain, pain, pain, pain._ She blinked against the blanket of darkness. Her vision slowly tunneled back in.

_No._

She reached for her throat and her wrists jerked to a stop. She whimpered. She crawled towards the anchor on her knees, hands pressed against the cold floor, pulling and pulling and pulling herself closer so she could reach for her throat. She swallowed. An unfamiliar weight pressed there as she did. She whimpered, the sound coming out pinched. _Please, please no._

She reached for her throat and her fingers brushed against the collar around her neck. She cried out in horror. _“No!”_

“I warned you, Vera,” came the voice behind her, low with a deadly threat. “I warned you.”

She pulled against the collar, fingers scrabbling against the edges. _“No no no no no NO!”_

“You belong to me. You wear the collar to remind you of that. This will be your final rule: never take off the collar.”

_“NO!”_ Her fingers found the buckle and she pulled the end through. She undid the collar from around her neck and tossed it away.

A snarl of rage rose in his throat. He grabbed the collar off the floor and advanced on her again, kicking her to the floor. She sobbed in paralyzing horror. _“No no no no no fuck you get OFF ME.”_ He jumped on top of her, his hand going to her hair and cracking her head back against the floor. Pain lanced through her skull and her vision went white for a moment.

“I knew you were going to be bad,” he growled through his teeth. “I knew it, but I tried to give you a _chance,_ Vera, I tried to give you the opportunity to be good…”

_“No,”_ she gasped as he wound the collar around her neck and passed the end through the buckle. He pulled it tight, tighter than he had before, and buckled it down. He produced a small padlock out of his pocket. She sobbed when she saw it. He jerked her towards him by the collar and clicked the padlock through a loop in the buckle, locking it around her throat. She sobbed desperately.

He stood up to admire her. She trembled on the floor, curling up into herself to hide herself from his eyes. Her damp hair made her shiver harder and the floor seemed to suck the heat right out of her bare skin. “One more thing,” he purred, his voice still carrying a soft and dangerous edge. He bent down to pull her up by her armpits until she was kneeling again. She rocked forward with the force of her sobs. “This is how I want you to be when you’re waiting for punishment. On your knees, head bowed, hands folded in your lap.” Her head dipped in desperate humiliation. “Just like that. Good girl, Vera.”

_“No,”_ she whimpered. Tears fell onto her thighs and rolled down her legs.

“Shh. Be good,” he murmured. He reached down, pulling her head up by the collar around her neck. She wept bitterly as he tilted her head up until she was forced to look at him. His breath huffed heavy over her face as his eyes moved hungrily over her. “God, you…you look beautiful. You’re my good girl, Vera.” His lips trembled and his tongue flicked out to wet them. “So, so good.” She closed her eyes and screamed.


	15. Dehumanization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the new tags. This one is...extremely rough.

Vera was kneeling on the floor, shivering with cold and fear. A rope dangled from above her just out of reach, the working end of a pulley system the man had quickly rigged and hung from a hook on the ceiling. He’d pulled on the other end of the rope to lift the whole setup into the air, out of the way and ready for use. He’d glanced at her as he’d done it, lips pulling back as he savored her fear.

She was still naked, her damp hair almost dry and falling past her shoulders. Her wrists were locked in the handcuffs and clipped in to the anchor between her knees. _“Stay here,”_ he’d said with a laugh. _“I have to go get my guests.”_

She trembled and doubled over into a sob. _“I told Pearson to come in late tonight,”_ he’d said, running his tongue over his lips. _“He doesn’t get to partake in this little party.”_ He’d run his fingers gently through her hair. _“No, this is private. Just for us and a few friends.”_

Her mind was a kaleidoscope of horror and pain. _What is he gonna do? What is he gonna_ let them _do to me? He’d protect me, right? I’m his. Maybe he won’t let them hurt me too badly. Maybe he’ll want to keep me for himself._ Tears ran down her nose and dripped onto her forearms shackled in front of her. _How did this get so fucked up that I’m hoping he’ll -_ She shivered around the thought.

Soon, far too soon, the door opened. Her head dipped further forward, terror clutching at her as a sob tore its way up her throat. She looked up through her eyelashes as one by one, men walked through the door and stood to the side. Her captor walked in last. Four in total. Her throat seized around a breath.

“Gentlemen,” came her captor’s voice as he stood in front of the others, holding his hand out in her direction, “I present your entertainment for tonight.” He turned to her, something like pride warming his eyes. She squirmed under his gaze. “This is Vera.”

She heard a low whistle. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Jose-”

“She is not to hear my name,” he covered quickly.

“Sorry.” The man folded his hands in front of him.

_Too late, fucker. Joseph._

Another man stepped forward, his face already a mask of desire. “What are the parameters? I mean, can we…?” He trailed off suggestively.

Her captor laughed. “I should have figured your mind would have gone straight there, Tom.” He eyed her. “I’m not sure yet. Vera, what do you think?”

She quailed. “No,” she whispered. “Please, please don’t…”

His face darkened. “Oh, Vera. I was so, so hoping you’d be good for me -”

_“No!”_

“- but you’ve disappointed me again…what are your rules, Vera?”

“No no no, _please,_ I can be good, please don’t, please, _please…”_

“Your rules, Vera. Do not make me ask again.”

“No,” she sobbed, nearly bent in half over her hands, heaving with sobs. “I’m sorry, please no…please…don’t let them…”

_“RULES, VERA.”_ She flinched as his voice echoed through the small room. The other men all took a small step back.

“Never speak without permission. Only -”

“And which rule did you just break?”

“Please…”

_“Which rule.”_

“N-never speak without permission…please…”

“Keep reciting.”

“No…” She choked on a sob. “Only eat or sleep when you let me, only scream when you let me, take all punishments without complaint, never take off the _collar…”_ She wailed out the last word.

“And you were bad, weren’t you? You were bad in front of my guests, weren’t you?”

“No, no, please…”

He turned to the others. “My apologies. We really have been making great strides. Obedience is…a struggle…with this one.”

“You certainly chose a beautiful plaything, Jo-”

Joseph’s head snapped up to look at the other man. “Next person to slip up will find themselves no longer welcome.”

The man dipped his head. “Apologies.” His eyes turned to Vera again. “Incredible…” He licked his lips.

“Thank you, Martin.”

“Please,” she begged. “I’ll be good, I swear to _god_ I’ll be good…”

He turned back to face her. “Vera. Be quiet this instant.”

She swallowed her sobs, trembling violently. _Please. Please, no._

“So…” The other man stepped forward, rubbing his hands together. “What are you thinking? I just want to… _god,_ I just want to sink my teeth into her…”

Joseph smiled. “I can tell you she makes the most delicious sounds when my teeth are in her, Greg.” He surveyed her for a moment, watching her shudder on the floor. He blew out a slow breath. “Do not kill her. Don’t hurt her in such a way that she’d need medical care that would take her out of this room. Other than that…” He waved a hand at her as if presenting her to them. “Have at her.”

They descended on her.

_“NO!”_

A hand went to her hair and pulled her head back. “Quiet, little girl,” the man growled in her ear.

“No, I like to hear her scream,” said another. His hands went straight to her nipples and twisted until she cried out.

_“Please, no,”_ she sobbed.

“I don’t like to hear her talking, though.”

“Compromise? Let’s gag her.”

“Ha. Let’s see if she likes being gagged with my cock.”

“Careful, Tom. She’s a biter.”

“They usually are when they’re fresh. I brought a ring gag.”

“Good luck getting it into her mouth. Jesus, she’s a fighter.”

She was thrashing against their hands with everything she had. She twisted hard against the hand in her hair, screaming when the skin of her wrists tore more against the handcuffs.

“Can we get her out of those? I want to move her around a little bit.”

“We can get them behind her. I’d like her restrained to the floor in some way, though.”

“I brought ankle cuffs and a harness, could we get her in those?”

“That would be perfect. I’ll get them.”

“Hurry, Martin. I’m getting tired holding her down.” A laugh.

A hand in her hair. “You can scream all you want, sweetheart. My guests want to hear you.”

“Please _no,_ please, don’t touch me, don’t _fucking touch me!”_

“She’s got a mouth on her, too! Can’t wait to feel it around my cock, _fuck.”_

She felt hands on her, pulling the harness around her, the leather cold on her skin. They buckled it around her waist and across her chest, around her shoulders, tightening straps around her thighs, forcing her onto her belly on top of her hands as they locked her ankles into the leather cuffs. She thrashed against them as they forced her legs to bend, back and back and back, until the men clipped the cuffs to the harness by rings on her hips.

“Do we need a spreader bar?”

“I’ll make it work.”

She felt hands at her arms, rolling her onto her side. More hands at her wrists and she heard the _clink_ of the cuffs unlocking. She couldn’t help the moan of relief that escaped her as the metal came away. She was forced back onto her belly and her arms were wrestled behind her.

“Do you want the cuffs back on? Or…”

“God, that leather looks fucking good on her. Let’s do leather cuffs on the wrists, too. If that’s alright…”

“She’s here for your enjoyment, Greg. You do as you wish.”

“Great.”

She felt leather cuffs tightening around her wrists and clipped to the harness, pulling her arms down her back until her shoulders strained. She was lowered to the ground onto her belly for a moment. She gasped with panic, her body screaming at her to _RUN FIGHT KILL_ but she couldn’t move, she was completely bound and at the mercy of the men who were staring slack-jawed at her, eyes dull with lust and other, darker things.

“Hold her up. God, I want to feel that mouth.”

Hands clamped down on her hair and dragged her up until she was balancing on her knees. She moaned at the pain, unable to take even the slightest bit of weight off her knees as they ground against the concrete floor. Her cheeks burned with tears and humiliation.

“Hold her while I get this gag on her.”

More hands on her face, forcing her jaw open, holding her in place as one of the men brought the ring gag to her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut and writhed against the hands on her. _I can’t let them get that in my mouth, no no no no no no…_ The hand in her hair twisted and fresh tears coursed down her cheeks. _NO NO NO NO NO NO_ … She sobbed helplessly as the men pried her jaw open and fit the ring gag between her teeth. They buckled the strap behind her head and released her jaw. Her sobs poured from her open mouth. Then, before she could get a breath, one of the men roughly grabbed the back of her head and forced his cock into her mouth.

She gagged as he shoved himself all the way in to the back of her throat. Immediately she felt herself bruise.

“Fuck, I love that sound.”

Then he was fucking her mouth, thrusting deep against the back of her throat. She couldn’t scream past the intrusion, couldn’t beg, couldn’t _move_ with the hand in her hair holding her up. She gagged again and she felt bile climb up her throat.

“Careful, you don’t want her to vomit on you.”

A laugh. “How do you know?”

“Tom, I don’t want to deal with the smell. Don’t make her vomit.”

A sigh. “Sure thing.” He eased out of her throat slightly. She gasped for air around his cock, eyes streaming.

“I want some, too.”

_NO._

She heard someone maneuvering around her, gripping her hips with bruising hands. “Come sit on my lap, honey.” A laugh. She felt herself being pulled backwards until she thought she would fall. The hand on her hair kept her canted forward.

“I rigged that up so we could suspend her, if that would be helpful.”

“Oh, _fuck._ Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Can she suspend from the harness?”

“You bet your ass she can.”

“Tom, do you think you could stop fucking my plaything for one moment while we get her rigged up?”

A snort. “Sure, you let me know when you’re ready and I’ll give her a break.”

“We’re ready. Pick her up.”

“Do you think I could still fuck her while you -”

_“Tom.”_

“Jesus, sorry.”

The man withdrew himself from her mouth and she sobbed with relief. Saliva dripped from her lips as they lifted her and carried her a few feet to where Joseph had lowered the end of the rope to the ground. They quickly tied it to her harness and pulled her up. Every muscle in her body convulsed as she was lifted into the air, wobbling as the thrashed against the restraints. Up and up she went until she dangled at hip height, sobbing and straining against the leather binding her. Her jaw ached from being forced open for so long.

“Come here, sweetheart.” The man’s hand made a fist in her hair again as he dragged her forward. She screamed in terror as he shoved his cock back into her mouth.

She gagged immediately, from the invasion and the disgust. She felt those same hands on her as before grip her hips and pull her backwards. The man at her mouth dragged forwards again, his fist twisting her head back until her neck ached. He hit the back of her throat and she moaned.

_“Fuck.”_

She felt someone prying her legs apart behind her and convulsed forward, nearly out of her mind with horror.

“Can you help me?”

“Of course.”

Another pair of hands joined the first and forced her legs apart.

“God, I bet she’s good.”

“You’re inches away, Greg. Try her.”

With no preparation, she felt another man force himself inside her. The ragged scream tore from her throat and the man fucking her mouth moaned at the sensation.

“Fuck, Greg. Do that shit again.”

The man behind her thrust his hips into hers with a jerk and she cried out again, face wet with tears. Saliva dripped down her chin as the man rutted into her mouth again and again, groaning filthily.

“Fuck, you fucking slut…”

“She’s not a slut, Tom. She’s good.”

“Oh come on, look how she’s taking my -”

“She’s not some slut for you to fuck instead of your wife. I’ll ask you watch what you say about my plaything.”

“Whatever.” The man renewed his efforts, fucking his cock into her mouth, bruising the back of her throat with every thrust. She couldn’t breathe.

“Fuck. God, she feels amazing,” said the man from behind her. She felt him press against her back and shrieked as his teeth sank into her shoulder.

“God, look at her. I just want to cut that fucking skin.”

“Then do it.”

“No, I’ll wait. I want to cut her while I fuck her.”

“Martin, you always had the strangest taste,” her captor said good-naturedly.

She wasn’t making sounds that were human. She was screaming out the horror, the sound coming out muffled and choked as the man kept fucking her mouth. The man behind her was thrusting into her faster, moaning and panting, his fingers spasming into her hips. His voice rose to a whine and he slammed his hips against hers as he emptied himself into her.

“Jesus Greg, what are you, a teenager? Never fucked a woman before? You lasted what, thirty seconds?” They laughed.

“Fuck you, I just got excited. She’s…she’s incredible.”

“Fucking finally. My turn. Can I use one of your knives, or…”

“Be my guest.”

She whimpered as the man pulled out of her, spilling himself on the ground. She could hardly breathe around the cock still in her mouth. She gagged again, almost retching.

“I said not to make her vomit, Tom,”

“Fuck you, I’m almost…Christ…” A groan. “Jesus… _fuck!”_

A salty stickiness jetted into the back of her throat and she choked on it. She convulsed into a cough, eyes streaming. The man groaned louder at the feeling of her throat spasming around him. He thrust his hips harder against her mouth, softening. She gagged against the taste.

“Fuck, she was good. _Fuck.”_ He pulled out and she sobbed as he let her head drop. His cum dribbled out of her mouth and onto the floor.

“Jesus, I thought you’d never finish.”

“Ha fucking ha.”

She shuddered, crying out in terror as she felt a new pair of hands grip her hips. She tried to close her legs but again they were forced open. She felt another cock press against her. She wailed brokenly.

She moaned as the next man entered her. She blinked, her mind starting to swirl with an indescribable sensation of…looseness. Like the link to her mind was slipping through her fingers as she was pulled further away, like she was trapped in a rip current. She scrambled to stay in her own brain, feeling like her hands were dragging against the walls as she was slowly pulled out. _No no no no no I can’t leave, what will happen if I leave?_ She shook her head against the feeling.

This was happening to someone else.

Until it stopped happening, she was going to float. She was horrified at what was being done to her body, but she couldn’t seem to find the emotion attached to it. She’d find it later. For now she was just focused on surviving.

Vaguely, she felt the man jerk into her, rougher than the last one. She felt a cold blade against her back, catching on the lash marks already there. She dimly heard her own throat make a screaming sound. It hurt, somewhere. She couldn’t tell.

She heard, distantly, the men talk about how they wanted to gag her with something else. Something to muffle her voice a little more. They liked the sound of muffled screams, or at least someone did. She groaned as the ring gag was pulled from her mouth. Her jaw hung open still, lips dripping cum, until another gag was forced between her teeth. She thought it was maybe a tie, tied around her head.

She felt the man behind her slam himself into her, bouncing her forward in the harness. She heard laughter. She felt the knife on her back, then on her hips. She was startled to realize the warm dribble she felt going down her legs was her own blood. She could smell it, so far away, almost like she was remembering a memory of blood.

She could feel a knife against her throat. A second one, or the same one? Definitely a second one. She felt the sharp blade against the bruises on her throat, right above the collar, just as she felt the other blade bite into her back. She heard vicious words, shaking her head against the confusion, trying to clear it.

_“I’m going to fucking kill you, girl. I’m going to cut your throat and watch you bleed out.”_

_“Careful with that knife, Tom.”_

_“Yeah, I’m fucking her so hard you might -”_

_“You’re fucking her like a pussy, Martin.”_

She felt the thrusts speed up, she felt her insides bruise until she thought she would come apart.

_“Fuck you, Tom.”_

She felt her skin rubbing raw against the leather, felt her muscles on the verge of spasm as the man pulled her legs even farther apart. She was distantly curious. _Can’t he tell he can’t go any deeper? Doesn’t that hurt, hitting my cervix so hard?_

She felt him finish.

She felt someone kneel in front of her, pulling her head up by a cruel hand in her hair. She heard:

_“Fuck, guys, I think we fucking broke her.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“She’s like…out. Gone.”_

_“Let me see.”_

She felt a slap. She felt it rock her head to the side, felt it chase her out of her body a little more. She heard the cruel, gleeful giggles.

_“I bet you I could fuck her mouth again and she wouldn’t bite.”_

_“You’re fucking crazy, Tom. You really willing to risk your cock for that?”_

_“She’s not gonna bite. Look at her. There’s nobody home.”_

She felt the gag being pulled away. She felt the man’s cock press against her lips and ease into her mouth. She thought maybe she should bite, but she couldn’t find the muscle for it. Besides, if she bit him they would probably just kill her. She knew she should feel scared of that. That feeling was gone, too. Hidden behind a wall made of fog.

She felt the man thrusting into her mouth again, this time able to get farther in until he was almost down her throat. She gagged, a simple reflex. She couldn’t taste anything.

_“Fuuuck. It’s always so much better with just the mouth.”_

_“You’re insane. No way I’d risk my cock like that.”_

_“I told you, she’s fucking gone.”_

Harder thrusts into her mouth. Was there someone behind her? She wasn’t sure.

_“Kinda want to fuck her in the ass.”_

_“No to that as well. I don’t want deal with the mess.”_

_“Fine. Maybe next time.”_

_“Perhaps.”_

_“If she’s still alive by then.”_ A laugh.

_“She will be. I like this one. She’s got so much potential.”_

_“She’s feisty, that’s for sure.”_

_“I’ve been enjoying breaking her. When she’s finally good, she’ll be…exquisite.”_

She thought she could feel her lips bruise against the man’s hips as he fucked her mouth, her throat full of him. Her mind swirled with confusion and she couldn’t breathe. Her body gagged again, reacting on its own, and heard the groan above her as that pushed the man over the edge. Again she felt the wetness as he emptied himself into her mouth. She coughed mindlessly on his cum as he withdrew. She slumped in the harness, her head hanging limply from her neck.

_“You always did get the good ones.”_

_“I have a good eye.”_

A hand in her hair, jerking her face up so everyone could see her. She could feel their eyes on her but far away, like it was happening yesterday. _“Yeah, I’d fucking say so.”_

_“Come on, J-”_

_“Greg.”_

_“Sorry. Show us how it’s done.”_

_“I’ve got plenty of time to work with my own plaything, Greg.”_

_“I know, just…I bet she reacts differently to you. I want to see.”_

_“Alright.”_

A hand on her hip, almost gentle.

_“Alright sweetheart, last one. You’ve been so good.”_

_“Oh come on, already?”_

_“I don’t want her all used up, Martin.”_

_“I haven’t even gotten to fuck her yet.”_

_“You fucked her mouth twice, Tom.”_

_“I didn’t get to fuck her pussy, though.”_

_“You fucked her twice. She’s done after this.”_

_“Whatever.”_

A hand tightening on her hip. _“My plaything, Tom. If you’re going to be disrespectful I can show you the door. Or have someone else show you, once I’m done.”_

_“You’re so fucking pretentious.”_

_“I just like to keep my things working. You have your own plaything at the moment, if I’m remembering right.”_

_“They wear out so fast.”_

_“That’s because you don’t take care of them. Don’t make this your last party, Tom.”_

Another man entering her. _Joseph._ He eased into her a little more gently, gentler than before. He filled her up and she heard herself moan, like an echo.

_“She_ does _respond better to you. Fuck.”_

_“Did you teach her to sound like that?”_

_“No. I told you. Exquisite.”_

He began to fuck her.

She marveled at how she barely felt it. She could feel the motion, feel the pressure, but not the pain so much. It was somewhere in her body, but she was chasing it like a mouse in a maze. A dark thought crossed her mind.

_If I can just stay like this, things will be much easier._

She hung limply from the harness.

She heard his panting, heard the lascivious moans of the men around her. Even with her head hanging down she distantly noticed that at least one of them had his own cock in his hand, wrist bobbing obscenely. She dimly felt the blood cooling on her back and legs. She felt the pull of the leather, the sickening jolting in the harness as he began to fuck her harder, the almost carsick-feeling of the room moving without her control. She felt the collar on her throat, squeezing slightly. She felt the cold.

She felt the horror but so deep down she wasn’t sure if she was imagining it. There was a horror _about_ the horror, and she was frightened about how she had to rationalize that yes, she should feel pain and terror and humiliation and rage, and she should feel violated and used, but those feelings were so, so far away. She could barely reach them.

She felt pain deep inside her as he was reaching his climax, burrowing into her, thrusting against the bruises that were already there. She noticed her noticing of it. _If that hurts it must be really, really bad._ He whined out a breath and came into her. She felt his hands on her hips for a moment after that as he trembled against her. She felt him pull out and moaned with the relief. She felt him move around to her ear and pull her hair back.

_“You did so well,”_ he whispered. _“My good girl. Taking the pain and punishment so well. Good girl.”_

_“This was fun. We should do this again.”_

_“Maybe not soon. She’ll need some time to recover.”_

_“Fuck, I want to just break her open -”_

_“Tom, you may go.”_

_“Are you fucking -”_

_“I trust you’ll find your way out.”_

The door opening and shutting.

_“He’s an asshole.”_

_“He’s inexperienced. He will not be invited again, though.”_

_“Good. I wouldn’t want him near mine, that’s for sure.”_

_“Vera can take it. She was so good.”_

_“Yeah she was.”_

_“Thank you…”_ A clearing throat. _“Anyway. Thank you. This was incredible.”_

_“You need to get your own plaything, Greg.”_

_“I know. I just don’t have time to care for one.”_

_“I understand that.”_

_“Help me get her down.”_

She felt herself getting lower to the floor, lower, lower, until her belly pressed against the cold cement. She thought it was cold? She shivered. Her cheek rested against the floor.

_“Need any help from here?”_

_“I’ll manage. Let me walk you out.”_

_“Thank you.”_

She felt him kneel beside her and press his lips to her ear. _“Good girl, Vera. Such a good girl. You’ve earned a break. Pearson will be here in a few minutes to get you out of this and clean you up, and then tomorrow you have the day all to yourself to recover. Does that sound good?”_

_“She’s gone, man. She’s totally gone.”_

_“Vera, answer me. Does that sound good?”_

She thought she made a vague sound of assent.

_“Good girl. Be good for Pearson when he gets here, do you understand?”_

She did her best to agree again.

_“Good girl. You did so well, Vera. Rest well, sweetheart.”_

_“You’re gonna leave her in that?”_

_“I’ll get you the harness and the rest tomorrow. I want to give her a chance to cool down in it.”_

_“Alright.”_

She heard the shuffling of feet towards the door. Saw the light on the floor as it opened. Saw the room get darker as it closed again.

Then she drifted, untethered. She drifted far away from her body.


	16. Chapter 16

Ryan’s hands shook as he hung up his jacket in the staff room. His throat worked as terror chilled his insides. _He said to come in late. He said I’d get paid for the full shift but that I need to come in three hours late._ His stomach churned. There was a tiny voice in the back of his mind telling him why, telling him that something awful must have happened to Vera in the last three hours. _Maybe he just wanted to torture her longer today._ He shuddered in disgust at himself. _‘Just.’ ‘Just’ wanted to torture her. What the fuck is wrong with you._

With every step towards the door that led downstairs his heart grew heavier. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his hands clenched into fists without his realizing. Sweat prickled on his back as his mind swelled into a louder and louder chorus of _SOMETHING IS WRONG SOMETHING IS WRONG SOMETHING IS WRONG SOMETHING IS WRONG SOMETHING IS WRONG._ His hand rested on the doorknob and he steeled himself, swallowing his panic.

“Pearson!”

His stomach lurched and he turned to see Stormbeck approaching him with a huge smile on his face. “Sir?”

“Thank you for coming in later. I appreciated the extra time with her tonight.”

His jaw clenched. “…yes, sir.”

Stormbeck grinned at him conspiratorially and lowered his voice. “I and a few colleagues had a little party with her tonight. Quite the ordeal. She was very good for me. I want you to give her an easier night tonight.”

Ryan swallowed the bile that was clawing up his throat. “…sir?”

Stormbeck licked his lips. “She’ll also need to be cleaned up a little. Use whatever you need, ask Bertram if you need something you can’t find. Once you’ve done that you can practice the knife techniques I taught you if she gives you trouble, but otherwise I want her to be left alone.” His grin grew wider. “I doubt, somehow, that she will have it in her to give you trouble.”

Ryan’s legs almost gave out from under him. He did his best to look disappointed. “Yes, sir. Only if she gives me trouble.”

Stormbeck gave him a final smile. “Good man.” He turned and left.

Ryan’s hand was sweating on the doorknob. _Open the door, you coward. She needs help._ He twisted the knob open and made his way slowly down the stairs.

When he reached the door to her – _cell? Torture chamber?_ – he drew in a shaking breath. He pushed the door open and went inside.

His stomach dropped as the light from the hallway fell on her. She was completely naked and lying on her stomach, a black leather harness crossing her body. Her wrists and ankles were locked in leather cuffs and clipped behind her to rings on the harness. The smell washed over him all at once, the smell of fear and sweat and cum. His hand flew to the doorway to stabilize him as he almost fell. _No._ She didn’t move at the sound.

He took three halting steps and fell to his knees beside her. She flinched weakly, the movement not seeming to have any conscious thought behind it at all. Her hair fell across the floor around her head, tangled with sweat and blood, her eyes staring blankly ahead, her mouth open in shock. He reached out a shaking hand towards her and jerked it away as he noticed the cuts on her back, on her hips, down her legs. The fresh bite mark on her shoulder. The puddles of blood and spit and _no no NO_ he didn’t want to think of what else.

“Oh my _god,”_ he whispered. “No…” His eyes burned. She lay completely still, save for her trembling. “Vera?”

She didn’t respond. She looked like she was dead.

“Vera…” His hand went to her shoulder. Her flesh shuddered under his hand and a low whine started in her throat. He jerked his hand away again. “No no no… Vera, it’s me…” _That doesn’t mean anything. I’ve tortured her, too. I’ve cut her, beat her… I’ve_ raped _her… I’m no different from the men who did this._ He whimpered.

_I need to help her. Get your fucking shit together, Pearson._

His hands went first to the harness. He gently unclipped her wrists and ankles and eased her limbs down to the floor. She mewled softly as her joints relaxed. His fingers shook as he undid the clasps on the cuffs and tossed them towards the door. _I’ll leave them outside. I’m not cleaning this fucker’s shit._ He bit his lip as his hands moved over her, unbuckling the harness and pulling it away from her body. Her skin was rubbed raw where she had been struggling against it. He did his best to avert his eyes from her nakedness. She felt ice cold under his hands.

His eyes went to her throat and he bent closer to her to see… He turned away from her and gagged. She’d been _collared._ Like a fucking _dog._ He fumbled at the buckle, hands trembling with shock as he found the small padlock that locked it around her throat. “No,” he whimpered. _What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…_ Tears sprang to his eyes. _What did he do to you. What did he do._

“Vera,” he whispered. She was still. “I need to go get a few things for you. Stay here. I’m going to help you, ok?” He got to his feet and stumbled towards the door, his body numb with the shock. He briefly considered turning back to handcuff her. He raged at himself for the thought. _She doesn’t fucking deserve that. Jesus Christ, just leave her alone._

He made his way back to the staff room. There was a man sitting alone at the desk, glancing at a panel of security cameras. “Bertram?”

He looked up, eyes tired. “What?”

“Um…a few things. Spare clothes, blankets, first aid stuff…”

A wall suddenly went up in the man’s eyes. “Oh. Yeah. Come with me.” He got to his feet and led Ryan further into the house.

He led him down a hallway to a linen closet and pulled out two blankets, a pair of sweatpants, and a thick shirt with long sleeves. “This is for the one downstairs, right?”

Ryan’s breath punched out of him. “Um. Yeah.”

“Ok. Take those…” He reached up to a higher shelf to pull down a first aid kit. “There’s that…” He turned back to Ryan. “Anything else?”

“Um…rags? Maybe some bottles of water?”

“Rags are here…” He passed him a few. “And water…” He pulled down two bottles.

“I’ll need to grab some food from the kitchen, too.”

“I’m assuming you know where that is?” He was already turning away.

“Yeah.” Ryan watched the man as he walked away. Completely unaffected. He shuddered and turned to walk further down the hall to the kitchen.

He threw the pile he had in his arms onto the counter and went straight for the staff refrigerator. He pawed through the piles of Tupperware until he found his own lunch, stashed there yesterday. He grabbed the bag, gathered the pile he’d left on the counter, and went back downstairs.

He was shaking so hard he could barely open the door to her cell with his hands so full. As he went in he dropped everything at the door, shuddering at the twisted mess of the leather harness he’d thrown into the corner. He picked it up and threw it outside.

He carried everything over to her and set it gently beside her, avoiding the mess. She whimpered softly as he knelt beside her again.

“It’s me, Vera,” he said gently. “I’m gonna clean you up. I’m gonna help you.” He spread a blanket out beside her and lifted her gently onto it. She was limp in his arms, her limbs and head dangling. He spread the other blanket over her and got to work.

He opened the first aid kit, his hand going straight for the disinfectant. He pulled out the small bottle of isopropyl alcohol and poured a little over one of the rags. He pulled the blanket back over her shoulder and gently wiped the blood from the bite mark there. She hissed and pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I have to get this clean…” She whimpered and curled in on herself. He pulled out the antibiotic ointment and smeared some over the bite. He pulled out a square of gauze and taped it down.

“Let me get you into this shirt.” He pulled her hands through the sleeves and drew it up over her head. He shuddered as it caught on the collar as he pulled it down around her. He covered her back up and reached for the rag again.

His eyes lingered on hers for a moment, blank and empty and staring straight ahead. “Vera,” he whispered. Her eyes fluttered shut. “If you can hear me…I need to clean you up, ok? I need to clean your legs. I promise I won’t…I won’t touch you…I just want to clean you…” He steeled himself and pulled the blanket up around her hips.

She keened softly at the exposure, pulling her legs up to her chest. His hand clenched against the rag. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. He brought the rag to the cuts.

She cried out and her voice broke. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sound. Her voice sounded ragged. _Used._ He shoved down the horror that rose in him as he wondered, for a moment, how much she had screamed. “I’m sorry.” He moved the rag back and forth across her skin, scrubbing away the blood and cleaning the cuts.

She was begging wordlessly, her lips trembling against the sounds that were rising in her throat. He locked his jaw and forced himself to keep going. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” He put the rag aside and grabbed the ointment again.

There weren’t enough bandages in the little kit to cover all the cuts. He shuddered as his eyes moved over them. There must have been twenty. Maybe thirty. Marking her lower back and hips and legs.

His hands froze for a moment, his eyes fixed on the mess on the floor beside her. _I can’t…I can’t touch her there again. I can’t do that to her. Not now._ He convulsed forward with a moan. _I can’t just let them_ stay _on her though._ He picked up a clean rag and swiped it once gently between her legs. He kept his head turned to the side, tears blurring his vision. She whimpered softly at the contact, her eyes squeezing shut. He threw the rag into the corner.

He reached for the sweatpants he had brought and eased them up her legs. They would be stained with blood later, he knew. But he had to get her warm. Had to get her covered.

He closed the first aid kit and looked around, his eyes settling on the bottles of water. He reached for one and cracked the seal. “Vera,” he whispered.

She pressed her face into the floor, turning away. “No,” she whimpered.

“Vera, I need you to drink.” He brushed her hair softly away from her face. “I brought you some water. I need you to drink, please.” He held her head up gently and eased the bottle against her lips.

She flinched away, wailing softly. “No, not again, please, no…”

He blanched. “I’m not going to hurt you, Vera…” He swallowed. “I just need you to drink.” He touched the bottle to her lips again.

“No, _please,_ I’ll be good…please…” Tears were starting down her cheeks.

“It’s ok, Vera. It’s just water. Here you go…” He held the bottle to her lips.

She was sobbing now, her eyes squeezed shut tight. She crumpled into herself and she surrendered, opening her mouth.

Opening far too wide to drink.

His hand spasmed and he flinched back, nearly dropping the bottle. His stomach heaved as the smell of sex and fear overtook him again. _“No,_ Vera.” She cringed away from the horror in his voice. “No no no, you’re not…oh… _Jesus,_ Vera, what did they do…”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, please not again…”

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Vera, please…”

She curled into herself, her hands going up to cover her head. She was sobbing raggedly, gasping for breaths, her voice cracking.

His chest was aching with each breath. His hands went up to his hair and he pulled, bending forward at the waist until he was nearly bent in half. A strangling sob tore at his throat. _YOU’RE NOT THE ONE BEING HURT,_ he screamed at himself.

He swallowed his tears and leaned over her, pulling her hair back away from her face again. “Vera.” He did his best to make his voice steady. “Vera, look at me.”

She cracked her eyes open and they moved lazily, fixing at last on his face. The sobs kept wracking through her.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Ok? It’s me. I promise. I’m not gonna hurt you tonight. He said I didn’t have to.”

She whimpered, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

“Look at me. Ok? Just look at me. I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to help.” He wiped her face with a corner of the blanket. “Look. I brought food and water, ok?” He held up the bottle. “Please let me help you. Please.”

A whimper died in her throat as her eyes went to the water. She licked her lips and swallowed dryly.

“Can I give you this?” She nodded. “Ok. Let me help you sit up.” His hands went gently to her shoulders and he eased her up. Her eyes were wide and unfocused still. Her arms wrapped tightly around her chest and she shivered. He held up the bottle. “Just water, ok? Not…” He trailed off, horror freezing the words in his throat.

She nodded, her tongue moving over her lips. He held out the bottle. She didn’t move to take it. He swallowed hard and held it to her lips, his other hand cupping her chin as he tipped the water into her mouth. She drank, slowly at first, then with needy gulps that sent water running down her chin. He pulled the bottle away and she whimpered.

“Do you think you could eat something?” A pause. She shook her head. “Ok. That’s ok.” He watched her for a moment as she shivered. “Cold?”

Her forehead creased in confusion again as her eyes slid out of focus. She jerked her head in a nod. He reached to pull the blanket tighter around her shoulders and she flinched, squeezing her eyes shut again. Her breath froze in her chest.

He pulled back, hands shaking. “I’m sorry. Can I…can I do this?” Again, a nod. He reached out and slowly, slowly, pulled the blanket around her. She clutched at it. He pressed his lips together. “Vera…I’m so sorry.”

Her face twisted and she crumpled into sobs. She fell forward, shuddering, her voice catching in her chest.

His eyes fell closed and tears started down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. He pressed his face into his hands.

“Kill me,” she whispered. His head snapped up. Her eyes were finally focused, boring into his. “Please.”

“I…I _can’t_ …”

“Please,” she moaned. “I can’t do it again. They…” She gagged and swallowed hard. “Please, Ryan.”

“I _can’t,”_ he cried. “Please…”

She rocked forward, shuddering. “Please, please, Ryan…” She gasped. “He said he’d leave me alone tomorrow. He wouldn’t have to find out until the next day…kill me, and you could be long gone and it would be too late…” Her hands shot out and tangled in his shirt. He winced at how weak she felt. His hands went to her wrists and he pulled her gently away. “Please.”

_“No,”_ he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

She shrunk back, betrayal darkening her face. “You promised,” she whispered.

“No, I’ll get you out!” He leaned towards her, desperate. “I swear to god, I’ll get you out. Please don’t ask me that…”

She raised her eyes to his. “If he does this again…I don’t care if you have a plan, if he does this again, kill me…please…if he asks you to come in late again…”

He shook his head, more tears falling. “Vera…”

“Promise me,” she begged.

He pressed his lips together, searching her face. “I promise.”

She closed her eyes and slumped back, another shudder moving through her body.

He fixed his eyes on the floor in front of her. “If you’re cold I can just…hold you.” His eyes flicked up to hers. “I don’t have to. I swear to god I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. But…I just want to help.”

Her eyes moved over him, surveying him for a moment, his intentions. He couldn’t look at the fear written all over her face, the torment. He stared at the floor.

“Please don’t -”

“I _won’t.”_

“- please don’t do anything else. Please just hold me. Please…” Her voice broke in a sob. “Please don’t do anything else…I can’t…”

His breath rushed out of him. “I won’t. I swear, I won’t. I’ll just warm you up. Nothing else. I promise.”

Her eyes slid closed and she nodded. He reached out slowly, carefully, and hooked his hands under her arms. He pulled her up to standing. She wobbled for a moment, falling against him, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. He waited until she was steady on her feet before he bent over to retrieve the blankets from the floor. He eased an arm against her back and guided her to the wall. He slid down first, stretching his legs out in front of him and holding his hands out, empty and open. She wavered for a moment, shaking. Then she eased herself down, sitting between his legs, and curled up against his chest. He arranged the blankets around them both, taking care to tuck them around her feet.

He could feel how violently she was shaking with her so close. He wrapped his arms carefully around her, shuddering at the smell of fear that was radiating off her. He held her tighter as she started to cry, broken whimpers at first that devolved into great, shuddering sobs that rocked her forward. She clutched at him, her fingers digging into his shirt and the skin underneath. She buried her head against his chest and wailed, convulsing against the pain and terror. A few of his tears rolled into her hair as he pulled her closer.

_I’m sorry._


	17. Chapter 17

She drifted for a while, wavering slowly between her body and oblivion. Every now and then she felt Ryan shift under her, his arms tightening and relaxing. She felt him breathe.

She listened to his heart beat, slow and steady. She let herself slump against him, exhaustion dragging at her. Exhaustion, and something much, much darker.

There was a spot in her mind where she could feel all the things that had been done to her. It burned her like a hot coal dropped onto ice. She pushed against the pain, instinct wrapping that spot in her mind with scars and distance. She felt if it was left to take over her mind, to fester and grow, she would be annihilated. Consumed. So she buried it. She buried the touches, the violence. She buried the violation. She buried the taste.

She could barely feel Ryan’s warmth, although she knew she should. He was so close, embracing her, holding her. And yet she felt numb. Nonexistent.

It hurt to exist.

Her eyes slid shut after a while and she drifted again. She vaguely felt his head droop until his cheek rested on top of her head. She felt his breathing slow. She felt his arms relax.

She disappeared into the blackness. She wasn’t sure if she slept, or just ceased to exist for a while. Her body felt inflamed, buzzing with pain and fear. She left again.

He stirred. His head left hers and she felt him tighten his arms around her again. She curled closer against his chest and drifted.

Eventually he began to move against her, stretching out his arms, groaning.

“Vera.”

She was silent.

“Vera, I have to move. My legs are asleep.”

She shivered. “Okay. Sorry.” She pushed herself away from him and gasped at how her body cried out at her for it. She whimpered softly, squeezing her eyes shut as she waited for the pain to ease. She crawled off of him and crumpled again beside him.

He looked at her as he bent his legs, rubbing them to bring the feeling back. He glanced at his watch.

“What time is it?” Her voice was hoarse.

He clumsily pushed himself up onto his knees, wobbling on his still-tingling legs. “About nine.”

She wilted. “Your shift is over.”

He watched her carefully. “I… I wasn’t planning on going home.”

Her eyes went up to meet his. “…what?”

He bit his lip. “I…” He looked away. “I didn’t want to leave you alone. I mean, I’ll go if you want me to…” His hand went up to rub the back of his neck. “If you need… some time…”

Her mouth drifted open as her eyes slid out of focus. “I…”

“I can go.” He stumbled to his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I don’t want to…” His hands moved through his hair. “I’ll go.”

“No,” she whispered.

He paused. “Do you…”

She cringed down, her body going stiff. _How can I ask him, how can I_ want _him here…_ “Please.”

He turned away from the door, towards her. Disbelieving. “…do you want me to stay?”

Her eyes swam with tears. Her lips trembled. “I… I don’t want to be alone.”

He shifted his weight to one foot, then the other. “Okay.”

“But please…” She shuddered, the blanket falling off her shoulder. “Please don’t –”

“I won’t. I promise. I swear.”

“I can’t –”

“I know.”

She looked up at him, the pain in his gaze punching through her. _He knows. He saw._ She squeezed her eyes shut, shame and humiliation washing through her. For the first time, she fully realized she was clothed. She rolled her shoulder and felt the pull of the bandage covering… She flinched as the memory of the man’s teeth, his moan against her skin, the obscene thrusting into her –

She convulsed forward, dashing her head from side to side at the memory. Her muscles braced against the intrusion. “No,” she whispered.

He knelt beside her, his hand going out to touch her, then pulling back. He bit down on his lip hard enough to break the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rasped.

“No,” she moaned, pushing herself away from him against the wall, her hands going up to cover her head. She gasped at the stark, fractured images and sensations that raced through her. The pull of the harness against her skin. The dull, punching ache as they raped her, one right after the other. The inescapable violation of her mouth, choking on the man as he fucked into her, a vicious hand in her hair. The edge of the knife, against her back and against her throat. The soft, caressing touch of – Joseph, that was the bastard’s name – as he fucked her last. His voice in her ear, praising her. She wailed wordlessly.

Ryan skittered back on his hands and knees, his mouth falling open in horror as she slipped away again. Slipped into the pain.

“Vera, I won’t… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said…” He was rooted to the spot, torn in half. _I can’t be here. She probably sees me too when she breaks down like that._ He dragged his hand across his face. _But I can’t, I_ can’t _leave her alone to suffer._ He sat down where he was, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees, pulling his shaking hands through his hair.

She shuddered against the wall, broken sobs pouring from her mouth. She looked like she was falling apart in front of him. _I need to tell her._

He opened his mouth to speak. “I’m going to get you out.”

That reached her. She took a shuddering breath and unwound slightly, raising her eyes to him. She looked like a caged animal. Desperate. He swallowed hard.

“I need to know the number of your handler.”

Her lips trembled. “C-Caleb?”

He nodded. “I need to contact him. I’m going to try and get him to pull for you to get you out.”

Her lip curled and she fell back. “He won’t help you.”

His brow furrowed. “Why not?”

Her lips pulled back over her teeth and a dull throb of anger passed through her. It was all she could muster. “If he was going to break me out, he would have done it already.”

“Not if he thinks you’re dead.”

_Oh._ She shuddered at how the memory had faded from her mind until that moment. Joseph, holding a gun to her head, firing it off the side. Choking her, so she couldn’t scream to Caleb. Laughing as Caleb sobbed on the other end of the call.

She experimentally reached back to try and find other memories, other images. A few flashed in front of her, Joseph choking her, Joseph raping her, Joseph whipping her. She couldn’t remember what came first, and what came after that. She shuddered.

“How long have I been here?” Her eyes were wide with horror. _Why can’t I remember?_

Ryan set his jaw. “Today is your fifth day here. Last night was my fourth shift with…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “…with you.”

She paled. She rooted around for a gut feeling of how long she’d been captured, tortured, _conditioned._ She felt lost, like her mind was intentionally withholding the information from her. It felt like she’d been here for two days, or maybe three. But then it also very much felt like several weeks. She shook herself, as if to clear the slate. She looked up at Ryan again.

“Do you work every day?” She knew within herself, somehow, that he must have a work schedule. _Even torturing people should have benefits and weekends._

He looked down. “Well, he…” His lips twitched. “He said I’d just work back half twelves. Wednesday through Saturday.”

“And today is…?”

“Sunday.”

She sagged. “So you don’t come in tonight.”

“Vera…” His hand raked through his hair again. “I…” He blew out a slow breath. “I don’t want you to feel… pressured…”

Her gaze hardened into a glare. “I’m fucking pressured, Ryan.”

His head fell forward. He stared at the floor in front of her. “I know.”

Her anger covered her like a quilt, protecting her. She looked away, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders.

“I…” He cast his eyes down in shame. “I wanted to… stay with you. Every night. If I can convince him to let me… if I can convince him I like…” He shuddered, his face spasming in revulsion. “If I can convince him I’m hurting you every night, that I’m… breaking you…” He looked at her, his eyes desperate. “I just don’t want you to be alone. I want you to… have someone…” He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “…something to hold on to. Something that’s not just… torture.” He wrapped his arms around his chest.

She was staring at him, mouth slightly open. “You want to be here… in this shit…”

His head snapped up. “Not to hurt you. I swear. It’s not like that… I don’t want…”

Her mind felt numb. “You want to be here with me.”

“Only if that’s what you want. If you want me to go, I will. But… if he’s leaving you alone today, if he’s letting you… um…” He looked at the floor again.

She felt like she would fly apart. Her stomach lurched with fear and hope and dread… _He wants to help me. Or hurt me. He’d make the sacrifice of his time, but what if he…_ “You’d have to hurt me those extra nights.”

His lips trembled. “I know.”

She couldn’t make sense of it. It was like her mind was throwing itself against the confines of her brain, screaming at her, tearing apart and flying back together. Her hands began to shake. _He helped me last night._ She could put the pieces together now, a little. Him, gently taking the harness off. Covering her with blankets. She could feel the sting of antiseptic. The smooth pull as he tugged the shirt over her head, around the… her hands moved to the collar around her neck. _No._ She twisted her hands in her hair and pulled. _He hurt me before._

“I don’t have to…” He slowly got to his feet. She looked up at him, staring helplessly at her. “I can go. Just say the word and I’ll go. I don’t ever have to be here unless he makes me.”

She couldn’t think, couldn’t think. The pain and terror and _pleasure_ were tearing her mind apart, filling up her body until there was no room for her anymore. She gasped and realized her face was wet with tears.

_“You raped me,”_ she whispered.

He fell to his knees, his arms hanging by his sides, hands pulled tightly into fists. “I know.” He bent forward, pressing his hands against his face. “I know,” he moaned.

_He had to, he did it, he had to, he did it, he had to…_ Her chest heaved with sobs. _He could have killed me. He could have killed_ him _. He could have refused. He could have made Joseph do it instead. He could have just killed me and this would all be over._ The sound of Ryan’s crying cut through the screaming in her mind.

_But I don’t want to be alone._ She felt the cavern looming in her, threatening to consume her, annihilate her, threatening to erase her if she was alone. She’d fall into the pit rather than live in the memories. But she could hold on to Ryan. She could hold on to him, the one – Her mind bent around the word _good_ as it passed through, the _one good thing…_

Her muscles tightened and she braced against the darkness. She wet her lips and looked at him, crying as silently as he could into his hands. “Okay,” she croaked.

He raised his head to look at her, guilt and shame written on his face. “Okay?”

“I want you to stay.” She cringed at the memories that came creeping into her vision, memories that felt like hands on her _now._ She whimpered. “Please.”

He nodded slowly. “I will.” He pulled his shirt up and wiped his face. He drew in a steadying breath and blew it out slowly, tears still running down his face. “What’s your handler’s number?”


	18. Chapter 18

Vera watched Joseph carefully as he entered the room. Ryan was standing against the wall, a practiced calmness hanging on his limbs. He kept his face carefully neutral. Vera was on her knees in the middle of the room, handcuffed to the floor. She shuddered at Joseph’s smile as his eyes moved over her.

“You’re looking well-rested, sweetheart.” His lips curved up.

She bared her teeth at him and barely held back a snarl. Rage burned through her blood.

Joseph tilted his head and looked to Ryan. “I hope she was good for you?”

Ryan smirked. “She was… compliant.” He glanced at her, his tongue moving over his lips. She looked away.

“Excellent.” Joseph’s face broke into a grin. “That’s what I was hoping to hear.” He took a step closer until he was close enough to touch her. “I thought that party might work out some of the kinks with her obedience.”

She rocked forward, a strangled cry tearing from her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut against the memories that came crawling out of her mind and gripped her chest until she could barely breathe.

She felt a hand in her hair and flinched away. She cried out weakly as the hand yanked her head back. She pressed her lips together and felt the burn of tears behind her lids.

“You caught yourself, good girl.” He knelt beside her. “What’s the rule you just broke?”

She whimpered and two tears leaked from her eyes and down the sides of her face. “N-never scream unless you let me,” she whispered.

She felt his breath on her face as he smiled. “Good. Very good.” The hand released her. She slumped forward with a gasp of relief. She opened her eyes to see Joseph staring down at her. She shuddered.

Joseph turned to Ryan. “What did you do to her while I was gone?”

Ryan swallowed, his eyes flicking to Vera for the briefest second. They’d decided what he would say, together. Decided what would carry the least risk. What would keep Ryan out of Joseph’s suspicions, and would keep Joseph from torturing Vera to teach Ryan how to do it. She shivered. _Nothing is going to keep him from torturing me._

Ryan licked his lips. “I… I fucked her, sir.”

Joseph’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Y-yes sir. I…” He shifted his feet uncomfortably. “I saw her in the harness and… I know you said to let her rest so I didn’t touch her all night, she was so… so good.” He looked at her and she shuddered at the look he was giving her. He looked… _hungry._ He looked like he wanted her.

His hand went up to rub the back of his neck. “But when I came back last night she… she looked better. She was still good, she was so good, and I…” He bit down on his lip. “I fucked her.”

Joseph was watching Ryan carefully. “Interesting.” He glanced down to Vera where she was kneeling at his feet, shaking. He looked back up to Ryan. He stepped aside and motioned Ryan forward with his hand. “Show me.”

Vera’s stomach dropped. _No, please no, I haven’t had time to heal and it’ll_ hurt _…_ A sob seized in her chest and she forced down the sound.

“…sir?” Ryan’s voice was strained almost into a whisper.

“You said you fucked her. I know this was difficult for you last time I taught you, and I’m glad you’re becoming more comfortable with the idea.” He held his hand out to Vera like he was _gifting_ her to Ryan. “I’m happy to know things have improved. Show. Me.”

“Y-yes, sir,” he rasped. Joseph took a step back and Ryan approached her, looking down at her in horror. She could see the glint of tears in his eyes.

_No. No, please._ She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t say anything, or he would… Joseph would… _make him…_ Ryan’s lips moved, and she looked closer at him. He was mouthing something. _I’m sorry._ A high, keening whine slipped out of her throat as her eyes fell closed.

“Always good to start with the basics. Do you want her making noise?”

Ryan moaned low in his throat. “Yes,” he whispered. “She can always scream with me.” He cleared his throat. “I like the noises she makes.”

Joseph sounded annoyed. “Then it’s good to establish that from the start. No use letting her have a long leash unless that’s exactly what you want.”

Ryan flinched. “Yes, sir.” His hands were shaking as they moved to the waistband of his pants. He undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants until they hung slightly open.

Vera ducked her head and slammed her eyes shut. _No… No no no no no…_ She whimpered. _I can’t…_

“About the party this weekend,” Ryan mumbled. “Does that happen a lot?”

Joseph sighed. “Oh, about once a month. My colleagues and I rotate to each other’s homes and playthings throughout the month, and it just so happened it was my turn this weekend.” He chuckled. “Excellent timing on my part, if I do say so myself.”

“Are they always so… um…” Ryan’s voice faltered. Vera opened her eyes and looked up at him, withering when she saw he had his cock in his hand. He was stroking himself as he stared at the floor next to him, his face pulled into a mask of despair. His gaze flicked to her and he drew in a sharp breath. Squeezed his eyes shut. Nodded. Kept stroking himself.

Joseph laughed once. Vera jumped as the sound reverberated through the room. “Are they always so obscene?” He chuckled. “Yes, usually. My colleagues don’t seem to grasp the true joy that is causing another person pain. They usually attend for the more… _explicit…_ activities.” He laughed and shook his head, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. “But it works to my own ends, so I allow it.”

Ryan’s hand stopped its work. “Your own… ends… sir?” His mouth was twisting like he knew he didn’t want to hear the answer.

Joseph stared at her past Ryan. His mouth pulled into a sickening grin. “Making her good.”

Ryan whimpered. He shook his head and forced the sound into a moan as he started to move his hand around his cock again.

He knelt in front of her, his hands shaking. “Can I unchain her from the floor, sir?”

“You can do whatever you like.” Joseph waved his hand through the air as if sweeping away Ryan’s limitations.

A key appeared in Ryan’s hand. “Then I’d like to do that.” He abandoned his cock for a moment and reached out to unlock the cuffs shackling her to the floor. Her hands pulled into fists and she turned her face away.

Her cuffed hands came away from their anchor on the floor and Ryan’s hand moved to her shoulder. She bit down a sob as he pushed her backwards, onto her back.

“No…”

“No begging,” he growled. She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. Her eyes were streaming with tears. He pulled a hand roughly through her hair, his fingers brushing against the collar that lay heavy on her neck. He put his hands between her knees and spread her legs open.

_“No!”_ she cried, convulsing away from him. _No no no, I can’t I can’t, hands on me and a knife on my skin and someone_ inside _me, I can’t do this, not now. I’ll die first._

Ryan growled at her and pinned her down, his hand shoving her arms over her head. He forced the handcuffs to the floor. His other hand went to her pants, the warm ones he had brought her when he’d found her naked, silent, bleeding. He yanked the pants down around her hips.

She screamed at the exposure. Her mind was blank with panic. She didn’t know who was on top of her, she just knew they were going to _hurt her_ and she couldn’t take it. Not again. _Please, god, not again. Not so soon._

“No!” she screamed. She thrashed under whoever was on top of her, frantically trying and failing to throw them off. She felt a body press over hers and a breath in her ear.

_“I have to. I’m so sorry. I’m getting you out.”_

She spasmed at the words and went limp. The hands pushed her legs apart again. She felt her hips being cradled up, bracing against someone else. She felt something touching her sex, pressing into her. She felt the ache as someone’s cock filled her up again. _It’s happening again. Maybe I can leave. Just leave for a while, that wouldn’t be so bad._ She shook her head, reaching out into the blackness for that feeling of… of _nothing,_ that feeling that had risen up to meet her when there were so many people fucking her, hurting her, so many people getting drunk on her humiliation.

She couldn’t find the blanket of distance. She couldn’t get away.

She could smell Ryan.

She moaned as he started to fuck her. He thrust into her, gently at first, then harder. Her mind shuddered around the twin truths in her mind, both too terrible to bear on their own. She threatened to shatter when she thought of them together.

_Ryan is raping me. He’s holding me down in this cell and forcing his cock into me while another man watches. He could walk away, he could stop this. He could kill me. But he isn’t. He’s just raping me._

Then,

_Ryan is helping me. If he refused to do this he’d probably be killed on the spot, and I might follow him very soon after. He’s just as trapped as I am. He’s got Caleb’s number. He’s going to find Caleb. He’s going to get help, get me out of this. He’s going to save me. He’s my friend._

_My friend is raping me. The man who is going to save me is raping me._

_“No no no no no no,”_ she sobbed, barely able to make the words past the horror that was clawing at her throat. _“No, please no, please… please…”_

He was grunting over her, sweat beading on his forehead, his face screwed into a look of desperate concentration. His hand was locked on her hip and he shuffled forward on his knees, trying to force himself to go deeper.

She could feel something was wrong. She could feel he wasn’t filling her the way he had been a minute ago.

She could feel he couldn’t keep fucking her.

His hips faltered and stopped their thrusts into her. He bent over her, tears dripping off his face along with the sweat. His breath hitched in his chest and he shuddered. He opened his eyes to look down at her. He looked absolutely terrified.

“Everything alright, Pearson?”

Ryan took a breath to steady himself. He licked his lips and sat up. “Yes, sir. Just having a little trouble. I think I must be more tired than I thought.”

Joseph scoffed. “You’re too tired… to fuck her?” He took a step closer to them. Ryan pulled himself the rest of the way out of her and shoved himself back in his pants. He yanked her pants back over her hips and fumbled at his buttons. Vera sobbed on the floor below him.

Joseph took another step closer. “I’m not sure I understand…” Ryan staggered to his feet and turned to face him.

“Sorry, sir,” he mumbled, casting his eyes down like he was embarrassed. “I…”

Joseph put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “I think it would be prudent for you to get your own plaything, for you to practice on.” Ryan’s eyes went wide and he met Joseph’s gaze. “I’ll talk to Bertram about getting you one.”

“S-sir, I –”

“In the meantime…” Joseph knelt between Vera’s legs. “I’m going to finish with her.”

_“NO!”_ she shrieked.

He smashed a hand over her mouth. “Hush, Vera. With _me,_ you do not have permission to scream.”

He grabbed her hips and flipped her over onto her belly. She cried out, a short, anguished scream that she quickly silenced. He pulled his cock out of his pants, already hard. _The fucker was enjoying this, the whole time._

He yanked her pants down around her hips again. He bent over her with one hand on his cock and one on her hip. “Be a good girl for me, Vera,” he whispered in her ear. Then he thrust himself into her to the hilt.

Her mouth fell open in a silent scream as he fucked into her, so much rougher than at the party. Ryan fell to his knees where he was. He pressed his hands over his mouth, stifling a scream before it reached his lips.

As Joseph pistoned his hips into her he reached forward and grabbed the collar around her neck. He yanked it back, straining her neck until her hands left the ground to claw at the collar. A high whistling gasp came from her throat and she gagged against the pressure.

_“No –”_ She heard Ryan move against the floor and she turned her head to look at him, eyes streaming. He looked like was about to step in, yank Joseph off of her. Her mouth gaped open and he stopped. He stared at her like he was burning alive.

Joseph did not even look up. He was driving into her, tearing her open, the bruised flesh inside her bleeding with the force of his thrusts. He was grunting with every stroke, his mouth pulled into a lascivious grin. Her hands scrabbled against the collar as he jerked back harder. She started to see spots in her vision.

Her eyes rolled back and her hands grew clumsy against the collar. Joseph’s mouth fell open and he moaned, bucking his hips into her with his release. The collar slipped from his hand and she fell hard onto the floor, gasping. He pumped into her slowly, riding the high of his climax. He smiled and pulled out of her. He stood, tucking himself back in his pants and smoothing his clothes.

Ryan ducked his head towards the ground just as Joseph turned to look at him. He swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat and took a deep, slow breath, arranging his face. He stood, too.

“I sincerely hope you fucked her like that last night,” Joseph said coolly.

“Uh…” Ryan licked his lips. “I… I tried, sir.”

Joseph chuckled. “Good.” He turned and looked at Vera where she lay on the ground, sobbing. She weakly pulled her pants back over her hips with her hands still cuffed together. Joseph smoothed his hand through his hair and looked to Ryan again. “Well, Pearson. Thank you. That will be all until tonight.”


	19. Chapter 19

Vera quivered on the edge of unconsciousness. Joseph was straddling her hips and her hands were pulled up over her head and pinned to the ground in handcuffs. His hands were locked around her throat and her hair as he leaned over her, his breath hot in her ear. Her eyes rolled back and fluttered shut.

“What are your rules, Vera?”

Her tongue felt dry in her mouth. He hadn’t let her have water, hadn’t let her rest in hours. Again and again, the rules. While she was beaten, while she was cut. While she was held down by the collar around her neck. A twisted croak escaped her throat.

He lifted her head and brought it down against the cement floor, hard enough to startle her. “Rules, say them or I cut you again.”

The floor was stained with her blood already, smeared in her desperate struggle. She trembled and opened her mouth again. “P- Please…”

Her ears rang as he slapped her hard across the face. “No, don’t beg. Tell me your rules. I will not say it again.”

A whimper caught in her throat. “Ah… N-never speak without permission…” She swallowed hard, her throat feeling gritty as it moved. “Don’t eat or s-sleep unless you let m-me… Never…” Her throat closed in a sob. “…scream unless you le-et me… Take all p-punishments wi-ithout complaint…” She could barely speak, she was shuddering so hard. “Never t-take off the c—” Tears rolled down the sides of her face. “…the…” She cried out as Joseph’s hand tightened in her hair. “Collar!”

“Good.” She shivered as Joseph lowered his mouth to her throat and licked along the edge of the collar. “Good girl.”

“Please,” she whimpered. Her body ached.

His hand smashed across her face. “You were being _so good_ for me, Vera, don’t –”

“I’m sorry,” she whined. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t disobey me again.”

“I won’t.” Her chest ached with every sob. “I won’t.”

“Say your rules. One more time, and I’ll let you have water.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together to steady herself. “Never s-speak without permission. Don’t eat or…” She gasped as he sunk his teeth into her shoulder. “…or sleep unless you let me.” She locked her jaw against the whimper that rose in her throat as he dragged her head to the side and drew his tongue down her neck. “Never scream un, unless you let me. Take a-all ah!” Her throat pulled tight into a strangled scream as he bit her again, at the base of her skull behind her ear. “Take all punishments without complaint!” Her voice echoed around the room. “Never –” Her voice rose to a high-pitched whine as his hand closed around the collar and he yanked her face closer to his. She wet her lips with a parched tongue. “Never take off the collar,” she whispered.

“Good,” he purred. “Very good. You’ve earned water, now, haven’t you?” He grinned down at her. She kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling and pressed her lips together. “Hm.” He drew his fingers through her hair. “Good girl.”

The door creaked open.

She nearly sobbed with relief as Ryan walked in carrying the food and water he always brought. He froze as he saw her, helpless, pinned under Joseph’s weight with her hands locked over her head. Some of the tension left his muscles as he realized they were both clothed, and Joseph wasn’t…

He knelt and placed the food on the floor.

“Pearson!” Joseph’s voice sounded too cheerful. “Perfect timing.”

Ryan kept his gaze on the floor. He looked exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes making him look much older than he was. “Thank you, sir.”

Joseph sat up, his legs still straddling Vera. “We were just working on her rules. She’s finally gotten them down, I think. We made excellent progress today.” He beamed down at her. “She’s earned some water.” He stood up and held out his hand to Ryan.

Ryan handed him one of the bottles of water he’d brought. Joseph cracked it open and held it out towards Vera. She was still on the floor, trembling. “You can have this, sweetheart,” he said gently. “If you get on your knees the way I like.”

Her hands pulled into fists against the cuffs. She was too exhausted to feel shame. Too beaten down. _I’ll do whatever the fuck he wants if I get water._ She rolled to her side and dragged herself closer to where she was anchored on the floor. She pushed herself upright and arranged herself so the anchor was between her knees. She settled herself back on her heels and bowed her head. Surrendering.

Joseph smiled. “Good girl. Great progress, really fantastic progress.” He took a step closer to her, the bottle held out in his hand. “Do you want this?”

She looked up from beneath her lashes. Her eyes fixed on the water. She couldn’t help but lick her lips at the thought of it. She forced down the whimper in her throat.

Joseph smiled wider. “Good girl. Being quiet for me.” One step closer, and he was standing right in front of her. “You’ve earned this.” His hand moved to her hair and he guided her head back. She froze for a moment, certain he was going to do something terrible. _Pour it over my face, drown me, force me to beg…_ But he held the bottle to her lips and gently tipped the water in.

She moaned as the first few swallows made it into her mouth. She gulped hungrily at the cool water, her eyes sliding closed at the feeling of it on her tongue. It washed down her throat, cleansing and sweet and good. Tears started to leak from her eyes.

It stopped as Joseph pulled the bottle away from her lips. She locked her jaw shut around the whimper that moved through her throat. She looked past Joseph to Ryan. He stood stock still, watching her with desperate eyes. _He’ll give me water. He’ll let me drink._

Joseph turned to Ryan. “Isn’t she just… exquisite when she’s good?”

Ryan nodded mechanically, his eyes hollow. “Yes sir.”

Joseph handed the half-empty bottle to Ryan and put a hand on his shoulder. “You look like hell, Pearson. Do you need the night off?”

Ryan’s eyes snapped from Vera to Joseph and he shook his head, almost frantically. “No. No sir. Just didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll be alright.”

Joseph paused for a moment, considering him. “Alright. Just watch yourself. She’s being good, but you can’t allow yourself to let your guard down around her.” He turned and fixed Vera with a look that bordered on admiration. “She’s so fierce when she’s fighting.”

Ryan gulped. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

With a final squeeze to the shoulder, Joseph left.

Ryan stood frozen for a moment, staring at her. At the bruises on her face, the blood staining her shirt in lines. The blood streaking the floor. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed.

“Please,” she croaked. “Water.”

He jumped slightly and padded his pockets with his free hand. He produced a key and knelt at her side. He placed the bottle on the floor beside her and grasped her wrist gently as he unlocked one cuff from her wrist, and then the other. Her hand shot out and grabbed the bottle beside her. She brought it to her lips and drained it in seconds.

“Do you need more?” Ryan’s voice was flat.

She nodded. “Please.”

Ryan walked in a daze to the other bottle he’d set on the floor and handed it to her where she was still kneeling. She cracked the seal and downed half the bottle before taking a moment to breathe. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. It left a smear of blood across her chin. “Thank you.”

Ryan’s hand went up to the back of his neck. “What did… what did he…”

“He didn’t rape me, if that’s what you’re asking.” Her voice was dark with bitterness.

He let out a small breath. “I was more asking…”

Her lip curled as she stared at the floor. “He beat me. And cut me. Made me say the rules over and over and over.”

She looked up and Ryan’s eyes were filled with tears. “I was able to contact Caleb,” he whispered.

She felt ice dump through her bloodstream. _“What?”_ she breathed.

He lowered himself to the floor beside her and crossed his legs. He ran a hand through his hair. “I was able to contact him. It’s going to be… hard… to get you out.”

“But you have a plan?” She scarcely dared to breathe.

He nodded slowly. “We have a plan. But it can’t involve the police.”

She nearly snarled at him. “Ryan, what the _fuck_ is going on? Tell me… please…”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. His hand moved wearily over his face. “Sorry. I’m a little slow right now. Let me try to…” He shook himself. “Caleb thinks…” He jerked his chin up at the ceiling. “… _he_ has someone in the force.”

“Joseph,” she spat. Her lips pulled up over her teeth.

Ryan’s eyes widened. “You’re not supposed to know his name.”

She scoffed. “Tell that to his buddies that couldn’t keep their fucking mouths shut as they…” Her eyes fell closed and she shuddered.

Ryan looked down at the floor. “So… um… Joseph…” His jaw clenched. “Caleb thinks he has someone on the inside. He thinks that’s how they found out about you.” He met Vera’s eyes. “He’s happy to hear you’re alive, by the way.”

“Great,” she said bitterly. “It’s partly his fault I ‘died’.”

Ryan licked his lips and kept going. “No matter what we do, we can’t involve the police. He has no idea who he can trust. So we’re going to have to do to this without their help.” He swallowed hard. “If we involved the cops, he thinks word would get to Joseph and you’d be dead before they could move.”

“Reasonable.” She ducked her head and took another sip of water.

“So he’s asking some friends. Not cops. He’s got some buddies who are ex-military, and they know some guys, guys who might be willing to get you out. It would be expensive, though.”

Vera’s eyes narrowed. “Expensive…?”

“Um…” Ryan’s jaw worked. “Apparently in this economy, with _these people_ …” He gestured vaguely to the ceiling. “…people need to be compensated. These are…dangerous motherfuckers.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I’m aware.”

Ryan blew out a breath. “So he’s talking to these friends. It’s going to take some time, but he thinks he could work with them to make a plan to get you out.”

She crumpled a little. “How much time?”

Ryan stared at the floor in front of her. “A few weeks.”

She whimpered. _“Weeks?”_ Tears started down her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do _weeks_ …”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. But this place is…” He shook his head. “Security-wise, it’s a fucking fortress. There’s no way to get to you except the stairs. No extra passageways, no escape exits, nothing. One way in, one way out. And dozens of armed motherfuckers along the way. With cameras. And fucking electric fences. This place is a fucking fortress.” He looked at her, beseeching. “We’re going to get you out. I promise. And we’re going to do it as quickly as possible. But Caleb needs some time to get the money together, and they need time to plan. I’m working with them to get them layouts of the place, cameras, guard duty schedules. I’m doing the best I can. And they’re making plans.”

“I have some money,” she whispered. “He can take what he needs.”

“No,” he whispered. “You’re dead, Vera. And since we can’t go through regular channels, we can’t tell anyone you’re not. So your money has been seized, everything…”

She gulped. “Fuck,” she croaked. Her hand squeezed into a fist and she slammed it against the floor. _“Fuck!”_

“I’m sorry.” He looked at her with desperation in his eyes. “This is the best we can do right now. We’re trying… I swear…”

_“I can’t do this for weeks!”_ she sobbed at him. “I can’t, I swear to god Ryan, I can’t…” She pressed her hands against her face. “I can’t do it. I can’t fucking do it. You said it’s been… what… six days? Seven?” Her hands slipped down to the collar that hung around her neck, dragging her down with shame. “I can’t, I can’t fucking do it…”

“We’re getting you out.” His voice sounded ragged. “I swear to god. We’re doing this. It’s just going to… take some time…”

_“Fuck_ you,” she spat. “How fucking easy is it for you to sit there and tell me it’s going to take _time_ …” Furious tears spilled down her cheeks. “You tell me it’s going to take _time_ when you can go home at the end of this shift, you can go home, sleep in your own bed, you can live without being scared someone’s going to beat you or tie you down or fucking _rape_ you, put a _fucking_ collar on you…”

His lips trembled as he looked down at the floor. “I… I’m sorry… If there was any other way…”

“There _is,”_ she growled. Her eyes moved to the knives lined up on the wall. “You know there is.”

He followed her gaze and turned back to her, his eyes filled with horror. “Vera… I can’t…”

“But I can.” She fell forward onto her hands and tried to push herself up to standing. She staggered and collapsed back to the floor. Her breath caught in her chest as all the punishment to her body flared up and twisted through her at once. She could barely stand. She gasped.

_“No.”_ Ryan reached out and yanked her back by her arm. _“No,_ Vera, please…” She pulled weakly against his grip as tears coursed down her cheeks. “Vera… please…”

“If you won’t kill me,” she sobbed, “I can do it myself.”

_“No.”_ Ryan kept his hand wrapped tight around her wrist. The broken skin there burned under his touch. His other hand went to her face and swept her hair back from her eyes. “Vera, please… Is that really how you want your life to end? You want me to cut your throat here in this fucking basement, with him a floor above you? Thinking he broke you?” Her voice broke with ragged sobs as she tried to pull out of his grasp. “This isn’t about your pride, Vera. This is about… getting you _out._ Alive. And I can’t…” He blinked tears out of his eyes. “I can’t just let you die when we have a plan to get you out. Please.”

Her strength was fading. She collapsed forward, into his chest. “No,” she wailed. “I can’t do it. I can’t fucking… _do_ this… not for another couple weeks. Please, Ryan, he’s… he’s breaking me…”

“Then break,” he whispered into her hair as his arms came around her. “It’s okay. He won’t destroy you.”

“He will,” she whimpered. “He’ll hurt me until I’m… fucking _good_ …”

“Vera…” He pulled away from her and brought his hand again to her face. “I’ll be here. Every night until you get out. Okay? I’m never going to leave you. If he wants to make you say the words, fine. But I’ll be here. Every night. To remind you you’re going to be free again. I’ll put you back together.”

“How can you say that?” she cried. “How can you say you’re going to help when you won’t even kill me?”

“I promised I’d do it if I couldn’t get you out.” He made himself look into her eyes, red from crying and from exhaustion. His hand slipped down to her shoulder. “But I can. It’s happening. I just need you to hold on for me.”

“And what if he makes you rape me again?” she whispered. His eyes closed for a moment as he convulsed forward, his jaw clenching shut. “What if he makes you hurt me? What if he hurts me so bad you can’t get me out?”

“I’ll carry you,” he murmured. “I will fucking drag you out. Okay? But you’re strong, Vera. You can do it. Say the words. Who fucking cares? They don’t mean anything. They’re just words. If he thinks he’s breaking you he’ll let his guard down. Maybe go easier.”

“You don’t know.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain that engulfed her as she said it. “You don’t know what he does.”

“I have a pretty good idea.” His eyes roamed over her, over the skin he could see. “But I’m getting you out. I swear to god, I swear on any fucking thing you want. I’m getting you out. I will…” He swallowed and looked away. “I will fucking kill him if I have to. I’ll fucking _die_.” His hand softened on her shoulder. “But please. Just give me time. And I’ll be here. I’ll be here to make sure you don’t…”

“Lose my fucking mind?” The words were sharp and bitter.

“Yeah.” His voice was strained. “Now… I brought food. And more water. Do you want that?” Her eyes moved to the food on the floor behind him, to the water bottles he’d brought. She nodded. “Okay.” He released her shoulder. “Do you want me to hold you? I won’t…” He dragged his hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, I won’t… I won’t hurt you. Or touch you, if you don’t want. I just…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t bring blankets this time. And it’s always fucking freezing in here.”

She bit her lip, considering for a moment. She ducked her head. Pressed her face into her hands. “You swear this is gonna happen?” Her voice was muffled.

“I swear. Look at me.” She raised her head to look at him. His eyes were boring into hers with an intensity that made her squirm. “I will…” He let his gaze drop. “I’ll get you out of this. I will. And then you never have to see me again. Okay?” He met her eyes again. “I’m getting you out, and then I’m gone.”

Her eyes were burning with tears at the hope that was starting to grow inside her. _He’ll get me out. I know it._ Her gaze moved over him. _I trust him._ “Okay,” she whispered. Almost shyly, she leaned forward against his chest. He stretched his legs out to either side and wrapped his arms around her. She groaned a little as her injuries complained against the pressure. She tucked her head under his chin and curled up between his legs. She pressed her face against his shirt. “Okay.” His shirt grew wet with her tears.


	20. Chapter 20

“Tell me about you,” Ryan whispered into her hair.

She’d eaten everything he’d brought and had downed the water. Ryan was leaning up against the wall with his arms wrapped tightly around her. His body heat radiated around her, through her clothes to her shivering skin. She tightened and pulled away slightly.

“What?”

“Um…” Ryan bit his lip. “Tell me about you. I want to… to know. To help you. Remember who you are. Remember what’s good. What exists out there.” His hand moved slowly, platonically, through her hair. “You don’t have to.”

Vera’s eyes were already welling with tears. _I had a life. I had a home. Friends. I had to say goodbye to them to do this op but…_ She swiped the tears from her cheeks. “Um…”

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry or anything, I was just thinking –”

“I was gonna get a dog,” she whispered.

Ryan’s hand softened even more in her hair. “Oh.” He swallowed. “What kind?”

“A little German shepherd puppy.” Her voice cracked. “I was gonna have to move out of my apartment but that was okay, I didn’t mind the longer commute…” Her fingers tangled in Ryan’s shirt. “I had one picked out. She was only two weeks old so I would have had to wait a little. I was ready to move out, I’d signed a new lease. Then I found out I got this undercover job. I kept my old lease. Work paid for me to break the other one. And… the puppy…”

“What happened to her?” Ryan said gently.

Vera was crying in earnest now. “She was sold to someone else. They were nice people, I know she’s probably happy right now…” She pressed her face into his shirt and wet it with her tears. “I should never have taken this job. I should have just… moved, gotten that puppy… I was gonna call her Petra.” She sobbed. “I just wanted to do my job, go home to her, be happy.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ryan whispered. “Maybe you can get another one once you get out.”

“Maybe,” she whimpered. She cuddled harder into his chest.

“What… um… what did you do for fun?”

“Um… I mean I was still establishing my life undercover, I didn’t really… do a lot of stuff…”

“How about before?” His hand kept smoothing through her hair.

She snorted. “I like movies. And concerts. I was dating around a little bit… there were two I really kind of liked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “Cody. And Rachel. I had to break up with them when I went undercover. But maybe… I could…” She fell silent. “If I even… _want_ …”

Ryan adjusted his position under her. “What about family? Do you have any family?”

Vera’s smile fell and her eyes filled with tears. “Yeah. My parents. They don’t live nearby or anything.” They live in Drake.” She swallowed. “And my sister. Asa.”

“What does she do?”

Vera shook her head and a smile pulled at her mouth again. “She’s 27. She works for a few nonprofits. I think her biggest one finds bikes for kids who don’t have them.”

“She sounds nice.”

She laughed. “Yeah. She’s… a lot. But she cares.”

“Any nieces or nephews?”

“Ha. No. Nothing distracts her from her mission to save the world.”

“Is that what she’s doing?”

She chewed her lip ruefully. “Sure.”

Ryan tightened his arms around her. She rested her head under his chin. She didn’t mind this kind of closeness. The kind that didn’t come with pain or violation or rules. They were quiet for a moment.

He broke the silence. “Tell me more.”

“What do you want to know?”

He shrugged. The movement jostled her wounds, but she didn’t care. “Anything. How do you like your coffee? What’s your favorite color? Who do you look up to? What would you be if you weren’t a cop? That kind of stuff.”

She bit her lip. “Okay. Um. I’ll try to go in order. Uh… I take my coffee black. My favorite color is… um… like a dark purple? Almost black? If I wasn’t a cop, um…” Her brow furrowed as she thought. “I don’t know. I wanted to be a cop for as long as I remember wanting to do anything.”

“Even when you were a kid?”

“…when I was a kid I just kinda… wanted to fight bad guys. That’s what all our games were about. I fought bad guys, she saved the world.”

“Huh. Cops and robbers, huh?”

She laughed gently. “Sure. Cops and robbers. And superheroes.”

His cheek rested against the top of her head. “What are you gonna do when you get out?”

Her throat closed suddenly around a sob. “I…”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and his hand left her hair for a moment. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to…”

“I just…” She sniffled. “I can’t think about what happens after this. Because I’m so… I’m so scared it won’t happen. It’ll fail. You won’t get me out.”

“Hey,” he soothed. “I talked to those guys all day yesterday. Believe me. Once we get a plan in place, and I know we will, we’ll get you out. These guys are… fucking scary. And professional. They’re… they’re literally just soldiers for hire, Vera. They can do it. And I’ll be there too. Getting them in.”

“But what if you fail,” she whispered. “What if you can’t do it. What if…” She shivered and burrowed her face into his neck. “What if he kills me before you can do it.”

Ryan stilled at her words. He squeezed his eyes shut. His mouth fell open and the reassuring words caught in his throat. _How can I say it’ll all be fine? How can I tell her she’ll be safe before she knows it?_ He leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. They were quiet for a long time.

“I want to go skydiving,” she whispered.

His hand went back to smoothing her hair. “Yeah?”

“I’ve never been. It sounds… fucking terrifying, but I want to go.” She wet her lips. “I had this necklace I really liked. Just a silver chain, with a charm at the end. For luck. Asa gave it to me. I lost it on the job. Someone tried to put me in a headlock and he broke the chain. I didn’t notice until after. I didn’t wear necklaces on the job after that.” Her voice rose as she kept going. “My favorite drink is a mai tai. I can down, like, five of those suckers in an hour. They’re fucking delicious. I used to play guitar in high school. I thought it was cool. I did it so this kid… Bryant…” She laughed lightly. “…god, what an idiot. I did it so he would like me. He ended up dating my best friend. Malek.” She shook her head. “Idiot.”

“Who was the idiot? You, or… or what’s-his-name?”

“Both, I guess.” She smiled ruefully. “My favorite band is Nate and the Michaelsons. I’ve seen them four times. There’s this little Thai place off of 27th that I love going to. I have a few plants at my apartment that…” She took a shuddering breath in. “Well. I guess they’ll be dead when I get to them. But they’re great. I’ve got an orchid and a little bamboo plant. I’m really not good with plants and I’ve almost killed them so many times…”

“What plants are you going to get when you get out?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe none for a little bit. I have to… I’ll have to learn how to take care of myself again.”

“Right.”

She shivered. She felt claws of dread sinking slowly into her stomach as he held her gently, warming her against the cold of the cement floor, of the air. Her throat burned with tears.

“You okay?”

She laughed once, bitterly. “Yeah. Totally fine.”

Ryan pressed his lips together. “What’s wrong?”

“Um…” A tear coursed down her cheek. “I’m just scared.”

“Oh.” He tightened his arms around her.

“When they were… during the party… when they were…” Her throat clicked as she swallowed.

Ryan cleared his throat. “Yeah.” His voice was pitched low.

“When they… were…” She trembled. “I… um… left my body for a little bit. I don’t know how to describe it, I just… it’s like I got pulled out of there while they… did things. I could sort of hear them talk, sort of feel what they were doing, but…” She blinked tears out of her eyes. “I wasn’t… _there_. And they… they used that.”

Ryan’s breath froze in his chest. “… _used_ … that?” His hands trembled against her.

“They uh…” She squeezed her eyes shut against the wave of sickness that washed over her as the memory rose up in her again. _I want to get it out. I_ have _to get it out._ “They um… one of them started with a ring gag and fucked my mouth…” She felt him convulse slightly into a shudder. “Ano-nother one fucked me from um, behind and…” Her eyes were dry as the words moved out of her. “And then someone else fucked me, the one who, who c-cut me…” She ran her tongue over her lips. “Or maybe that came, after, I don’t know… I can’t really… remember right…” Her fingers twisted in his shirt. “But the sa-ame one, h-he…” She shuddered. “Um. He fucked my mouth a, again, without the gag…” She swallowed hard. “And I, I l-let him –”

“No,” Ryan growled.

She paused with her mouth open. “…what?”

“Don’t do that. You didn’t _let_ him do anything. What would have happened if you resisted?”

“Um… I…”

He cradled her gently against his chest. “I’m sorry. It didn’t happen to me, it happened to you. But… Vera… if you’d resisted, they probably would have just hurt you worse. Even worse. That’s…” Tears were falling into her hair. “You were surviving. That’s all that is.”

“But…” She buried her face in his shoulder. “That’s what I’m talking about. I’m afraid of… of breaking. They _broke_ me.”

Ryan passed his hand over his face. “Fuck. I… Jesus Christ.”

“Do you understand? Do you understand why I’m scared of that?”

He pressed his cheek against her hair. “I know why you’re scared of it.”

She felt the tears start to rise again. “What can you do that can stop that from happening? What can you give me that will pull me back? What if…” She gulped. “What if I go away and stay that way forever?”

He was shaking. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t know…”

“How can you protect me from that?” Her voice was thick with tears.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “Once we get you out we can… I mean you can… or I…” He pressed her against his chest. “You can go to… therapy? Maybe? I don’t know how this –”

“You think _therapy_ can fix this?” she asked weakly.

“Well… I don’t really know how it works, but like… this is… what they do, right?”

“This is what I’m scared of,” she whispered. “Even if you do get me out, I’ll still be… I’ll be broken, Ryan. How am I… How am I supposed to move on… How am I supposed to feel safe again, ever… He’ll look for me, you have to know he will. How am I supposed to…” Her throat tightened. “How am I supposed to be with someone else again? How can I… with my scars… How can I… _want_ …” She shuddered and dissolved into sobs. “Even once I get out, my body is his. He ruined me. He… he destroyed me.”

“No he didn’t,” he whispered against her hair. “He didn’t. He didn’t destroy you.”

“Fuck you,” she whined bitterly. “You don’t know anything.”

“Vera, he…” Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat. _He made me do things, too. How can I ever want to be with someone again, when he’s made me do things to you that make me sick?_ He clenched his jaw shut. _Not her problem. Not her problem. She’s the one hurt, and I helped hurt her._ He smoothed the hair back from her face and held her close as she cried.

“He’s broken me forever,” she whispered against his chest.

Ryan bit his lip. “No.” His voice rumbled against her ear.

She didn’t have the energy to argue. She sagged against his chest, momentarily overwhelmed by the pain. She latched onto him and let him hold her until she fell asleep.


	21. Chapter 21

Joseph was walking around Vera in a slow circle, his eyes moving up and down her body. She was kneeling on the floor again with her hands locked in handcuffs. Her body ached from the beating Ryan had given her before Joseph had arrived. _“I just… please, I don’t want to risk him making me –” “I know. I don’t want that either. Just do it.”_ Joseph had been content with the bruises Ryan had left on her skin, with the wince she made when he ran his hands over them. He had let Ryan walk out the door without having to hurt her at all. She shuddered at the wash of _gratitude_ that had gripped her for a moment.

“You’ve been so good for me, sweetheart. Remembering your rules, being obedient for Pearson… He said he didn’t have to punish you at all last night.” He stepped closer to her and thumbed the bruise on her cheek. It throbbed as he pressed on it. She whimpered. “He just had to break you in a little more. I’m so proud of you, Vera.”

Vera ground her teeth together and pulled her head out of Joseph’s grasp to look at the floor. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him again. “Don’t pull away from me, Vera,” he murmured, a threat dancing in the words.

She couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t help it. _Not only are you gonna torture me, you want me to fucking… sit still for it?_ She couldn’t catch the words before they came out. “I thought the collar was the last rule,” she hissed.

All the admiration slithered from his face. “Vera, how many times do I have to punish you before you’re good for me?”

She crumpled. _Apparently at least one more time, you sadist prick._

His hand smashed across her face and she toppled to the floor with a cry. Joseph strode to the wall and pulled down the cane. He turned, the cane held tight in his grip. He did not hesitate before he cracked it down against her skin.

She screamed as the pain exploded in her arm. She scrambled to get back to her knees, to shield her head and stomach from the blows. Before she could, he hit her again. Her cry echoed around the small cell.

“Please,” she moaned, “don’t –” He struck her again.

“You can –” _Crack._ “—scream, sweetheart. I –” _Crack._ “—give you permission.”

_“No!”_ she sobbed. “Please, _stop_ …”

“Bad girl,” he growled. “You were doing so well for me yesterday with your rules. And so well for Ryan. And then –” _Crack_. “—you were bad again. Am I not –” _Crack._ “—punishing you enough? Do you –” _Crack._ “—need more instruction?”

“No!” she pleaded. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was a mistake, I _ah!”_ She jerked as he struck her again. “I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll be good I _promise!”_ She screamed the last word.

“You need to be punished, Vera. You spoke without permission. _So_ disobedient.” Another strike.

_“Please!”_ she shrieked. “No no no, you’re right, I was bad, please… no…”

“Tell me your rules, Vera. We’ll see if a beating is what you need to remember them.”

_Crack._

“No-o, _please_ …”

_Crack._

“Do not make me say it again. If I have to say it again I will _make you good.”_

_Crack._

“No! Please. N-never speak without _ah!”_ She shuddered against a blow. “—permission!”

_Crack._

“Only eat or, or s-sleep when you _tell me!”_ She screamed the last words as the cane came down across her shoulder.

“Good girl. Keep going.”

“Never, never s-scream unless _no!”_ She coughed as the cane struck her in the ribs. “—unless, unless you let me!”

_Crack._

“No, _please_ …” She pressed her face against the cool cement.

_Crack._

“Do I have to make you good now, Vera?”

“No, please… Take a-all p-punishments without –” Her voice broke as she screamed. “—complaint!”

_Crack._

“Never take o-off the c-collar!” She slumped as the last words left her lips.

The beating stopped for a moment. “Good,” came Joseph’s smooth voice.

“I was good,” she sobbed into the floor. “I’m being good, _please_ …”

“What is your first rule, Vera?” His voice had a dangerous edge to it now.

“Never speak without permission, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Her mouth was running away from her control. The panicked pleas were pouring from her lips and she was powerless to stop them. _Please, please, just stop hurting me, I’ll do anything…_

He brought the cane down so hard on her back she could feel her flesh break open. She screamed and her throat felt raw. “If I have to tell you one more time, Vera, I will make you good right here where you lay.”

She wailed weakly against the floor, clenching her jaw shut against the terrified words that were pressing against her lips. He nudged her slightly with his foot. She whimpered.

“Good girl.”

He brought the cane up and cracked it across her legs.

_“NO!”_ she screamed. A switch flipped in her mind and suddenly it felt like her skin would catch fire from the rage boiling inside her. _“FUCK YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, YOU SADIST MOTHERFUCKER –”_ She cried out as he struck her again.

_“Bad girl,”_ he growled at her. _“Bad girl.”_

“Ok, _Daddy Kink McGee,_ I don’t give a _fuck_ if you think I’m bad, you can _suck my asshole, you fucked-up pervert piece of SHIT!”_

_“Bad girl.”_ His face darkened in a look of fury that made her quail for just a moment. The adrenaline dumping through her blood made the pain of the beating fade until it hovered at the edge of unbearable, fueling her. _Ryan will get me out. Until then, what’s he gonna do, kill me?_

Her lip curled in contempt. “Ask me if I give a fuck, _Joseph.”_

She watched as he lost control.

He roared in rage and began beating her so ferociously she didn’t have time to draw breath between each strike. Over and over again he brought the cane down on her back, her legs, across her arms and shoulders. Her screams echoed through the cell as she raged at him, covering her head as best she could.

_“Fuck you, die in a FUCKING car fire you sadist moron, you fucking shitstain, you fucked-up motherFUCKER!”_

_“BAD GIRL!”_ he bellowed at her. _“BAD GIRL!”_

“What you only play if someone’s _chained the fuck down?_ You fucking _coward, you pathetic fucking coward!”_

_“BE QUIET!”_ he screamed at her.

“Fucking _make me!”_ She felt a curl of dread in her stomach as the words left her lips, but she didn’t care. _What’s he going to do to me that he hasn’t done already?_ _“FUCK your rules, FUCK your stupid FUCKING RUL—”_

He kicked her in the stomach. Her body convulsed tighter into a ball. She was left to gasp and retch as he walked behind her. She turned her head to follow him and her stomach dropped when she saw what he was doing.

He was at the wall, lowering the rope from where it was hanging far out of reach on the ceiling. The one he’d used to suspend her when – She shuddered. He lowered the rope until it curled a few times on the floor.

_“Make you_ be quiet?” he hissed. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart. I’ll _make you_ be quiet.”

She screamed wordlessly at him as he descended on her, rope in hand. She aimed a kick at him that went wide. He kicked her viciously in the stomach and she choked, nearly vomiting with the pain. He shoved her onto her belly and crushed his knee against her back. She squirmed under him and cried out as he increased the weight.

Her body froze for a moment in sheer panic as she felt his hands fumbling at her collar. She writhed under him and he jerked the collar upright. She choked for a moment, all thoughts flying from her mind to be replaced by the single, glaring terror of _I can’t breathe._ He climbed off of her and walked again to the wall. The rope was tied to the D ring of her collar.

She jerked her hands up to reach for the collar but they were stopped short by the handcuffs. She staggered onto her knees, dragging herself to the anchor on the floor until she could bend forward and just –

He pulled the other end of the rope.

The collar drew tight against her throat and dragged her upwards until the cuffs pulled tight against her wrists. He tightened the rope just a little more and tied it off.

She was gasping against the collar, the air whistling through her throat. She was straining against the cuffs with everything she had, every instinct screaming at her to _BREATHE BREATHE GRAB THE COLLAR BREATHE._ A tortured choking sound left her mouth as it gaped open. She fought for air.

He knelt in front of her, his lips curled into an ugly expression of smugness. “Well, sweetheart. I don’t hear any of your _smartass retorts.”_ He grasped her chin roughly and tilted her head up slightly. She gagged as it put more pressure on her airway.

He laughed. “What? Nothing to say?” His lips pulled back over his teeth in a wicked grin. “Looks like I finally rendered her speechless. All it took was the _right_ punishment.”

She glared up at him with a rage that made her sick for feeling it. The terror, the _helplessness_ froze her thoughts as she strained to breathe. Tears streamed down her face and a sob croaked out of her throat.

He stood, taking a few more moments to savor her agony. Then he turned towards the door. “I know we’ve only just begun the day, but I have a few things I really must attend to. I’ll be back in a little while. Maybe an hour. Be good for me, sweetheart. I expect full obedience when I get back.”

She shuddered in despair as he closed the door behind him. She wept silently in anguish as she dragged in breath after broken breath. _Please. Please._


	22. Chapter 22

It was another week until Ryan brought news.

From the look on his face it wasn’t good news, either.

Vera was strung up from the ceiling by her wrists. Joseph had torn her shirt off and locked her wrists in manacles that were hooked to a chain dangling from the ceiling. The same place she’d been suspended during the party. Then he’d taken the whip to her back. Made her say her rules over and over and over again. She hadn’t even disobeyed. She’d been good.

Sweat ran in rivulets down her face and chest. Blood oozed out of the lash marks along her back, raised welts and gashes that sent agony shooting through her with every breath. Every moment. Her head hung limply on her shoulder.

“Ah, Pearson. Perfect. I was just finishing up.” Joseph wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Ryan forced himself to look at her. She trembled in the manacles, too delirious with pain to even feel relieved. She only registered his presence. _Oh. Ryan’s here._

Ryan’s eyes moved over her body, fixing at last on the marks he could see on her side as she stumbled and fell hard against the cuffs around her wrists.

“What did she do _this_ time, sir?” he asked sardonically.

“Oh!” Joseph chuckled. “Nothing at all. We were just reviewing her rules. If she doesn’t know them when she’s in agony, what’s the point of her knowing them at all?”

Ryan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Makes sense, sir.”

Joseph released the chain from its anchor point on the wall. She crumpled to the ground, too weak to stand on her own. She cried out weakly as she hit the floor with a _thud._

Ryan’s jaw clenched. He could barely keep the wobble out of his voice. “She’s breaking, isn’t she, sir?”

She shivered against the cold floor. _I’m breaking. You can see it. You don’t even have to ask._

She felt warmth beside her and a gentle hand moving through her hair. “She is. We’ve got a long way to go, but… she is. She’s so good.”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Well, is there anything you need from me, sir, before you go?”

Joseph threw a sidelong glance at Ryan. He pursed his lips. “Now that you mention it… when’s the last time you had her?”

Ryan couldn’t keep his voice from shaking this time. “… _had_ her, sir?”

“Fucked her, Pearson.” Joseph’s voice was clipped.

Ryan paled. His heart thudded in his chest. He took a long, slow breath. “A week. Sir.”

“Then that’s what I need from you before you go. She was so good for me today. But she… _struggles,_ I think… with obedience with you. You need to practice having a firm hand. So. Fuck her, and make sure she stays obedient. We’ll see just how much progress has been made.”

Vera didn’t move. She didn’t have the energy to cry, or fight, or make noise. She waited.

“Yes, sir.”

There it was. Despair.

She lay limp on the floor as Ryan’s hands moved over her. Smoothing back her hair. Stretching her out on the floor so she was no longer lying twisted in a heap. Rolling her onto her back. She hissed at the pressure on the lashes on her back. After a moment the pain dulled and the cold felt good. Welcome.

“You’re not making love to her, Pearson. You’re fucking a plaything. Don’t confuse the two.”

“Yes, sir.” A sob was twisted up in the words.

She felt horrendously exposed, bared to him. _But he’s seen me naked before. And much more fucked up._ It was somehow comforting.

She felt like she was moving under water as Ryan pulled the pants he’d brought her down around her hips again. He bent her legs up into position. She could barely lift her arms to try to push him away. _It wouldn’t do anything. Joseph would just force him to do something worse._ She had once thought _this_ was the worst thing Joseph could do. She’d been wrong. Completely, hilariously wrong.

She lay on her back for several minutes as he stroked himself, his eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in concentration. She stared blankly at the ceiling as he pressed himself into her.

It wasn’t so bad with Ryan. Truly, it wasn’t. Joseph had fucked her three times since the party, including when he’d done it after Ryan hadn’t been able to. Every time, she’d screamed and cried. Every time, he’d punished her for it.

But with Ryan… Ryan let her scream. He didn’t make her hold in her agony. He didn’t make her pretend to be good.

She wasn’t screaming now.

Maybe she should. Maybe that’s what Joseph wanted. Maybe that’s what he expected when Ryan fucked her, because he allowed it. Maybe that’s when Joseph filled his quota for how much she could scream. How much she could cry.

A sob tore through her throat. Her ribs ached as it went, sore from the beating she’d withstood yesterday. Joseph had beat her and beat her and _beat her,_ trying to get her to break. To scream. And she had, in the end. He’d only beat her harder then.

But she wasn’t screaming now.

Maybe that was for the best. Ryan didn’t want to rape her. Couldn’t even finish last time. So if he could just finish, if he could just get it over with, Joseph would leave them alone together so Ryan could hold her and give her an update on the rescue plans and stop himself from promising everything was going to be alright.

She just couldn’t. She couldn’t bring the rage, the desperation, the horror up from where it was lying stagnant in her gut so that she had something to scream _with._ She could feel the pain, feel the invasion. But it was Ryan hurting her. Ryan invading her. And as soon as Joseph was gone, it would stop. She knew it. She trusted Ryan. Ryan was her lifeline. Ryan was her anchor.

She felt something dripping onto her chest. Through her unfocused eyes she could see Ryan was crying, the tears squeezing past his shut eyelids and a little way down his cheeks before the motion of him fucking her sent them shimmering through the air and onto her.

Joseph was laughing. “She _has_ improved. My god.”

Ryan’s hips stuttered against hers and he came with a groan. “She has, sir. She’s… she’s amazing.” His eyes were still closed. As soon as he had finished he pulled out and immediately pulled her pants back up. He tucked himself back in his pants and stood, a little dizzy.

Joseph was looking around at the tools hanging on the wall. “You’ve been doing very well with her, Pearson.”

Ryan stared at the row of knives. “Thank you, sir.”

“I will see you in the morning, Pearson.” Joseph strode to Vera’s side and knelt next to her. “Be good for him, Vera. God, you’re being so good.” His hand made a fist in her hair and he dragged her mouth up against his. She flinched and closed her eyes.

Joseph stood and straightened his clothes. “Good night, sweetheart.” He went to the door and closed it behind him.

The moment Ryan could no longer hear him behind the door he rushed to pick her shirt up off the floor where Joseph had thrown it hours earlier. _“Shit.”_ He went to the shelf that held the alcohol and a few rags that he had brought down a few days ago. _“To clean her, sir. She remembers the wounds better with me when I do it.” “Very well, Pearson. It’s a good idea.”_ He grabbed a rag and the bottle and fell to his knees by her side.

“Vera,” he murmured.

Her eyes slid shut and a tear rolled down the side of her face into her hair. “Yeah,” she rasped.

He draped the shirt over her chest to cover her and fumbled in his pockets for the key. His fingers shook as he reached out and tried to unlock the manacles from around her wrists. “Fuck. I think these take a different key.”

“On the wall. Next to the rope.” Her voice creaked. _I haven’t been screaming as much as before. Why does my throat still hurt?_

He staggered to the wall and grabbed the tiny key hanging from the hook where she indicated. He returned to her side and unlocked the manacles from around her wrists. She groaned as they came away.

“Vera, let me –” He pulled her wrists through the sleeves of the shirt and drew it up over her head. “I need to… Need to clean the –”

“No,” she sobbed. “Don’t.”

“They’ll get infected if I just –”

“Do you have something clean to bandage them with?” Every word was exhausting.

“…no…”

“Then it doesn’t fucking matter. I’ve been sweating and bleeding in that shirt for days. As soon as you put it on the cuts will just get dirty again.”

“Vera –”

_“Please,_ Pearson,” she whimpered. “Please.”

He leaned back at the use of his last name. “…okay. But if they get infected –”

“I don’t care,” she sighed. She felt like there were lead weights on her limbs. “I don’t care.”

Ryan bit his lip. “At least let me get you covered.”

“Fine.” She tried to help as he pulled the shirt down around her waist. She slumped back. She could barely sit up.

“I brought – Well, you know what I brought.” He went to the door and carried over the water and food. “Here.”

She licked her lips at the thought of water. She pushed herself up on her elbows. She cried out as her muscles strained under her torn skin.

“Let me help you.” Ryan slid his arm under her shoulders and eased her upright. She whimpered as the fabric of her shirt pressed into the whip marks on her back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Ryan crouched and stretched his leg out behind her hips to help support her. He eased her shoulder against his chest. Her head dropped onto his shoulder while he reached around her with both arms, cracking the seal on the water bottle. “Here.”

He gently guided her head off his shoulder and held the bottle to her lips. She drank slowly, then more deeply, her throat moving painfully with each gulp. Within seconds, the bottle was empty.

“Jesus. Does he _ever_ give you water while he’s down here?” He reached for a second.

“Sometimes. It’s been a few hours, though. Maybe six.”

“Did he feed you?”

Her mouth twisted. “He always feeds me. At least once, usually twice. Not including the times you bring food. But I can only eat when he tells me. Sometimes even when I don’t want to.” Her head rested against his shoulder again. “He doesn’t want me getting skinny.”

Ryan shuddered against her. “Oh.” He passed her the sandwich that he always brought. Her hand shook as she reached out to take it. Her hand fell into her lap. “It’s okay,” he murmured. He held the sandwich to her mouth and helped her take a bite.

Her jaw moved against his chest as she chewed. “Thank you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head to conceal the tears that had sprung to his eyes. “No… no problem.” He helped her take another bite. “What did he do today?”

“Pretty much what you saw,” she said. “Strung me up. Whipped me. Made me say the rules.” Her eyes dropped to the sandwich in his hand as she swallowed. “And I was good.”

He flinched like she’d slapped him.

“Sorry,” she mumbled against his chest. “Sorry, it’s hard to –”

“No no no. I’m sorry. You’re okay.” His hand smoothed through her hair as he put the sandwich down and reached for the water again. “It’s not your fault.”

“Not yours either.” She was able to reach her hand up to steady the bottle this time.

He pressed his lips together. “Um. I… I have to talk to you about the plan.”

Her stomach roiled and she nearly brought up the food again. “…w-what?” _It’s not happening. I’m going to be here until I die._

“Um…” She felt his throat work. “Caleb backed out.”

_“No.”_ The word was a breath. She didn’t have the strength to sob. Her body was frozen.

“But it’s still happening.”

_Don’t fucking lie to me. Don’t do that. Don’t do that to me, not now._ “How?”

Ryan cradled her closer as she started to shake. “Caleb backed out because he’s scared for his kids. We tried to make it so he was as removed as possible. But he still…” Ryan made a sound deep in his throat. “Whatever. And two of the guys backed out because of that. So now we have four, including me. And they get to split the other guys’ two cuts so they’re happy about that.”

She gasped. “Caleb got the money?”

“Um.” He shifted uncomfortably under her. “Yeah.”

She pushed herself enough away from him that she could see his face. “…what?”

Ryan cast his eyes down. “We got the money. Yeah.”

Vera’s eyes narrowed. _“You_ got the money?”

His face was carefully neutral. “I helped, yeah.”

“…so the money is yours?”

He jerked his head once. “Um. Yeah.”

Her eyes moved over his face. “Thank you.”

“Yeah. No problem.” He reached for the water again. “You need more?”

Her strength was returning. She was able to hold the water herself as she drank. “Thanks,” she whispered as she wiped her mouth.

“So we’ll need a bit more time,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m so sorry. I know that’s not… That’s not fair to ask of you, it’s so… Especially after I just…” He leaned his elbow on his knee and pressed his face into his hand. “But I swear, we’re going to do it. We just have to adjust the plan. Maybe a week. Maybe a week and we’re going.”

She felt so empty. So scraped hollow. A little desperate laugh bubbled from her lips, like it had been sloshing around in the shell of her body. “Better hurry,” she said against his chest. “Or there won’t be much left to save.”

She meant it as a joke. She meant it to be funny. It was all ridiculous, wasn’t it. She was already broken. Ryan had said so himself.

_Better hurry, or there won’t be much left to save._


	23. Chapter 23

Vera was so tired. _Christ,_ she was tired. She tottered on her knees in front of Joseph as he looked down at her with a look that bordered on affection. Her vision was starting to blur around the edges.

She flinched as he touched her hair. The movement was delayed, as if the message couldn’t get from her nerves to her brain to her muscles fast enough. She shuddered weakly.

“So good, Vera,” Joseph crooned. “You’re so good to me. Say your rules for me, Vera.”

Her lips trembled. _Fuck you and your rules._ “Never speak without permission. Never eat or sleep unless you let me. Never scream without permission. Take all punishments without complaint. Never take off the collar.” Her voice had the dull flatness not of memorization, but of words that had been etched into her brain at the point of a knife. She could remember them in her sleep. She could remember them in agony. She could remember them for the rest of her life.

However long that might be. She wasn’t sure. She didn’t care.

“Good.” The hand moved through her hair again. “So good.” He knelt in front of her and his hand came up to cup her chin. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

It took effort, but her eyes focused on his face. _Bite him. Spit at him. Headbutt him._ She stared blankly at him. _No. I just want to rest. I just want to stop hurting._

“God, you’re exquisite.” His tongue moved over his teeth as he smiled. “And today is a special day. Do you know why?”

She shuddered. _Are you going to kill me today? Do I finally get to die?_

“Today, you’ve been here for two weeks.”

She pitched forward in a sob. Two weeks. _Two weeks._ It felt like a lifetime. Her life before felt like a distant memory. But it was only _two weeks._ Two weeks, and she was already so broken. Two weeks and she was already _good._

Joseph guided her back upright and wiped the tears from her face with his thumbs. He stared at her with a radiant grin on his face. “And since we’ve made such fantastic progress, I’m going to give you a treat. You still have to be good, mind you, but I’ll reward you for how well you’ve been doing with me.” He ducked into her eyeline. “Alright, sweetheart?”

Tears trickled down her face. “Okay.”

“Ah ah ah. ‘Yes, sir.’ That is how you address me.” His hand tightened in her hair.

“Yes, sir.” _Fuck it, I don’t care. I’ll call you ‘your fucking majesty’ if you want me to. Just don’t fucking hurt me._

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart.” He pulled her face up and looked into her eyes. “I’m going to let you rest today. I’m not going to punish you, unless you’re bad. I’m going to let you lay down, rest your head in my lap. Does that sound good?”

She nodded. “Yes sir,” she whispered. _What’s the fucking catch? What do I have to do to earn this fucking rest?_

“Good. There’s just something you have to do for me first.”

_There it is._

He stood and reached for his belt buckle. She sagged forward. _I buy a day of rest by sucking your dick. How very fucking creative of you, you moron._ He pulled himself out of his pants, already erect. _Jesus Christ, are you_ always _hard? Does this really do it for you that much?_ She had to repress an eyeroll. _Fucking animal._

“Open your mouth, Vera.”

She closed her eyes.

She obeyed.

Before she felt anything on her lips, she felt the cold edge of a knife against the side of her throat. She froze and looked up at him, his cock inches from her face.

He suppressed a groan. _“Damn it,_ Vera, you look magnificent on your knees, looking up at me.” His other hand twisted in her hair. “I know you have a penchant for biting. And I want you to understand…” The knife pressed hard against her throat and she stiffened. “I am trusting you because you’ve been so good for me. If you bite me, or in any way disobey me, I will cut your throat and bleed you out over this floor. Do you understand, sweetheart?” She nodded. “Good.” He forced her head forward.

She felt his cock push past her lips, the tip already wet with precum. She felt him slide into her mouth. She felt him against the back of her throat.

_Now’s my chance. He’ll cut my throat and I get the pleasure of knowing he’s going to be dickless forever as I die. Here’s my chance to die. Here’s my chance to fucking bite him._

She didn’t bite. _I want to live._

He pulled back and thrust into her mouth again. Gently. She gagged as he touched the back of her throat.

He guided her along the length of his cock with his hand in her hair. Fucking gently into her mouth. She would have done it without him forcing her. She wanted to rest. Fuck being _good,_ she wanted to rest. And monster that he was, he usually kept his word to her.

It was sensual, tender. Almost like something she would do with a lover. Him easing himself into her mouth, almost courteously. Her, silent. Obliging. She wasn’t bleeding or screaming. This was just a cock in her mouth. She’d had worse. She’d had so much worse.

She remembered enjoying this, once. She remembered doing something like this before, back before pain had twisted her into obedience. She remembered getting on her knees and making her lovers feel good. She remembered the vulnerability and trust that would flutter in her chest as she did it. This could have been the same thing, except for the knife at her throat, and her wrists locked in cuffs, and her knees aching on the cold cement. _Fuck,_ her knees hurt. She’d been kneeling every single day for… two weeks, apparently. They hurt when she sat. They hurt when she laid down. They hurt when she slept.

Her knees aching was the most painful part right now. She could do this. She could take this.

He moaned as he fucked her. “Vera. My sweet girl. You’re so good for me, sweetheart. So good.” Saliva dripped from her lips. She kept her eyes shut and let him keep doing it.

She could feel the change. She felt his hand tightening unconsciously in her hair, felt his hips stutter against her face as he reached his climax. She heard his breath catch in his chest with a ragged gasp. She heard his groan as he emptied himself into her mouth. Tasted him, as he pressed himself all the way to the back of her throat. She gagged and thanked every god there is that it was over.

_Now I get to rest._

He kept his cock in her mouth for a few more minutes as he softened. Moaning at the warmth of her tongue. Stroking his hands through her hair. Finally he pulled himself back and tucked himself away in his pants. He buttoned them and refastened the belt.

“Something else that I’m going to do today…” He wandered to the wall and pulled down a length of chain looking to be about eight feet long. “You’ve been so good, Vera. So good for me. So I’ll give you a little more…” His lips quirked up in a grin. “… _leash,_ so to speak.” He looked so proud of himself at his little joke. He moved closer to her and knelt beside her. He pulled her hair away from her neck so he could access the collar. He locked one end of the chain to her collar and tucked the small key into his pocket. He ran his hands down the length of the chain to the other end and locked it to the anchor point between her knees. That key disappeared into his pocket at well.

He reached into another pocket for the handcuff key. He unlocked the cuffs from around her wrists, and unlocked the extra set that had chained her to the floor. He set both sets on the wall and returned to her side.

Her wrists felt so… _light._ She was never free of the handcuffs around Joseph. Never. She looked at the skin where the cuffs had rested, tearing open over and over. _Maybe they’ll have time to heal now._ She licked her lips.

“You’ll still be in them sometimes when I’m punishing you, of course. But for now, for today…” His hand guided her face up. “You’ve earned a bit of a reprieve.”

He walked to the wall and eased himself down it. He stretched out his legs. He looked so _casual,_ like he was her friend and they were just talking. He patted his leg. “Come here, Vera.”

She tried to push herself up from her knees. Tried to get her feet under her. Her legs wobbled and she collapsed back down to the floor. _Fuck, I’m tired. How did I get so tired?_ She whimpered softly.

“It’s alright,” he said soothingly from his spot on the wall. “You don’t have to stand. Crawl to me, sweetheart. Come here.” He beckoned.

She swallowed her disgust and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. She chain wasn’t heavy, but it seemed to pull her down like she would fall into the earth. She pushed herself forward. She crawled to his side and slumped to the floor.

“Good girl.” He guided her head onto his lap and ran his fingers gently through her hair. Like a friend would. A friend she would talk to while leaning on them on the couch, maybe just like this.

In spite of herself she felt herself relax a little into the touch. Melt into it. His fingers were so gentle, so soft on her hair. His hands moved gently over her neck, over her shoulders. Stroking softly. Raising goosebumps on her arms.

“Ooh, you _do_ like that,” he crooned. “Good girl. Responding so well to my touch. _Christ,_ you’re so good. Oh, my girl.” His fingers traced her face. “You’re so good.”

She couldn’t even find it in her to be furious. She couldn’t find the handle on that feeling to pull it out of the fire burning in her and throw it in his face. _I could kill him now. With my bare hands. He’s let me out of the handcuffs. I could choke him with the chain. Beat him to death. Reach for the knife in his pocket._

And yet she couldn’t. She was tired, not just in her bones, but felt an exhaustion that ran its roots down into her soul. _I don’t care. I don’t fucking care. I just want to not hurt. I don’t care what I have to do._

He sighed out a breath almost like a purr. “Two weeks. Only two weeks, and you’re already so good for me. Can you even imagine how you’ll be in another two weeks? A month?” That soft hand stroked through her hair. “A year?”

_I won’t be here in a year. I won’t be here in a month. Ryan’s going to get me out. Ryan’s going to save me from this. Then once I’m all better I’m going to hunt you down and rip your guts out._

_Or I’m going to make him kill me. Or you. Doesn’t matter. I don’t care. No matter what, I will not be here in a month._

A tear rolled slowly from the corner of her eye.


	24. Chapter 24

Despite Joseph, despite _everything,_ Vera fell asleep. Pain throbbed dully in her body, but then it always did. Her back burned with the marks from the cane, the whip, it was not going to heal _it was never going to heal._ Every breath moved past the collar. A constant reminder of what she was, _who_ she belonged to. A reminder of whose hands were moving slowly over her skin.

Joseph was so… _gentle_ with her. His fingers smoothed through her hair so softly she shivered with the pleasure of it. He whispered to her as she drifted. _“Good girl.” “You’re my sweet Vera.” “You’re being so good for me.” “Are you enjoying this rest?”_

_Yes. I would do anything to make it continue._

She fell asleep with her head on his leg, faded out, faded back in again to the sound of his whispers. To the feeling of his hands gently touching the places that didn’t hurt. There weren’t many places like that.

Fear buzzed in the back of her mind like white noise. She’d spent two weeks feeling nothing but fear and pain. She felt like she didn’t have any adrenaline left to fuel her. _He’s going to hurt me again._ She knew it. But in the moment, with her hands unshackled, lying on the floor with her head in someone’s warm lap, with gentle fingers soothing her skin, she didn’t care. She floated. She slept.

He stood up and left for a while. Came back with water and food. Guided the water to her lips and let her drink. Fed her, from his own hand. Like a friend. Like a _lover._ It made her nauseous. She was grateful for the water.

She drifted again. The world faded back in as she caught the tail end of his voice saying, “…rules, Vera?”

She spoke automatically. She didn’t need to think.

“Never speak without permission. Never eat or sleep unless you let me. Never scream unless you let me. Take all punishments without complaint. Never take off the collar.”

_I guess he was okay with me sleeping today._

“Good, Vera. So good for me. You’re my sweet girl.” Fingers moving along her scalp. “If only you could be this good for me all the time.”

A chill crept into her body. _It’s over. He’s going to hurt me now._

His fingers only moved through her hair again. “But you deserve this rest. So obedient for me, and for Pearson.”

_Ryan._ Ryan was this gentle with her. Ryan was her friend. Ryan never forced her to say her rules, never forced his cock into her mouth, never held her down and beat her until she broke. Ryan was going to save her. Ryan was going to get her out. _Ryan is going to get me out._ She recited it in her mind like a prayer, a constant chant running right under her rules.

He returned again with food. She ate. She slept. She drifted. She ached.

His hand grasped her hair and pulled her farther onto his lap. “You’re so good, sweetheart. Come on. Be good for me.” His cock was in her face. She closed her eyes. Closed her mouth around him. Let him guide her down his length. Disconnected her brain. It was just something in her mouth. She was just resting. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend she didn’t feel anything at all. She could pretend she didn’t feel the desecration.

_Desecration._ That seemed too weak a word, compared to what else he had done to her body.

She felt him sputter and come against the back of her throat. Kept her eyes squeezed shut. Let him guide her head back onto his thigh, the taste of him still in her mouth. _Twice in one day, huh? What a special fucking day for you._

She drifted again. _This isn’t pain. This isn’t so bad._ It was humiliation, but it felt distant. Soft. Like if she pushed on the feeling it would give under her. This was better than pain. She didn’t much care what he was doing. She wasn’t in pain. Humiliation meant nothing. It wasn’t pain.

She drifted again. _How is it possible to want to sleep so much?_ A thought tickled the back of her mind. Something about how sleep repairs the body. _My body is damaged beyond repair. I’ll never heal on the outside. I’ll never heal on the inside._ She imagined tiny little beings moving through her cells, fixing her, coming out only when she slept. _He’s torn me apart. Nothing can fix it. I just have to survive until Ryan gets me out._

She didn’t know what she would do once she was free. She didn’t care.

He moved under her and she stirred again. _Does he want me to do it again?_ She lifted her head. She felt like she was moving underwater. _Fuck, I’m so fucking tired. I could never sleep long enough to recover from this._

Joseph’s hand moved through her hair again. “Vera?”

She groaned. Under the suffocating blanket of exhaustion, she felt a stab of panic. _Answer him._ “Y-yes sir.”

A sigh. “Good girl. Pearson’s going to be here soon. You need to wake up.”

She pushed herself upright, whimpering softly as the cane and lash marks on her back screamed at her. Her knees ached. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Joseph stood next to her and stretched his arms up over his head, groaning as he did it. He smoothed his clothes and smiled down at her contentedly. “What a lovely day. Down here with you. Being good.” Her body slumped with exhaustion. “We’ll get back to making you good tomorrow.”

Despair.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that burned there. “Please…” The whispered plea escaped her lips before she could stop it. She flinched and threw her hands up over her head.

An exasperated sigh came from above her. “Fucking _Christ,_ Vera. I spend all day letting you rest and you immediately break your rules.”

Her mouth opened to defend herself, to beg, to curse, to do _something._ Nothing came out. _If I say another fucking thing he’ll hurt me._ Her voice faltered and died in her throat. She pressed herself against the cold cement floor.

Joseph scoffed. “Unbelievable. Un- _fucking_ -believable.” Vera looked up and he was shaking his head. Looking up at the ceiling, then down at her with contempt. He ran a hand through his hair.

Vera cried out weakly as he crouched to her level. He loomed over her and reached out a hand to make a fist in her hair. “Vera, do you want me to stop?”

It was a test. She pressed her lips together. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes.

“Vera, if you tell me you don’t want me to punish you, I won’t.”

She shuddered and pressed herself against the floor.

He drew his knife and held it to her throat again. A small frightened noise left her before she could stop it. “Vera, I’m going to cut your throat unless you tell me not to.”

A sob tore through her. _Can’t speak can’t speak CAN’T SPEAK._ The thin blade pressed against the soft skin under her jaw. It bobbed as she swallowed in panic. She shuddered violently and pressed her eyes closed. _If I speak, I know he’ll do worse than just kill me quickly. Maybe this is okay._

The door opened.

Her sob of relief drew out into a scream as Joseph pressed the blade harder against her throat.

Ryan’s eyes went wide as soon as he saw the knife at Vera’s throat. He lunged forward, his hands outstretched.

“Hello, Pearson.”

Ryan froze at the sound of Joseph’s voice. His eyes moved slowly from the knife to Joseph’s face. “S-sir.”

Joseph smiled. Vera sobbed into the floor, wetting the cement with her tears. “We were just having a little test of Vera’s rules. She got to rest today. And yet she still doesn’t obey. So we’re making sure she knows her rules. That she follows them, at all times, with no hesitation.” He looked back to her, where his knife was pressed against her. “Vera, beg me to stop or I’ll cut your throat right now.”

Vera wailed weakly at the words. _I don’t want to die I don’t want to die I don’t want to die I don’t want to die._ The blade cut into her neck. A drop of blood ran slowly down her throat.

Joseph jerked her head up until she was forced to look at him. “Vera…” His voice was low and dangerous.

Her eyes flicked to Ryan for a moment. _Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to die like this, right here. It wouldn’t hurt for very long. And I’d die with my friend. He would know what happened to me. He would care. I wouldn’t die alone with Joseph._

She opened her mouth to beg. She closed it again.

Joseph smiled. “Very _good,_ Vera. _Very_ good.” He withdrew the knife from her throat. His hand eased out of her hair. She collapsed to the floor, dragging in gasping breaths.

Joseph stood and looked to Ryan. “Well.” He smoothed a hand through his hair. “She was good for most of the day, but I don’t want her getting spoiled. She has to remember this infraction. So I want you to practice your knife techniques on her tonight. See how you do without me guiding you. In the morning I’ll take a look at how you’ve improved.”

Ryan let out a breath. “Kn-knife techniques. Yes sir.” He squeezed his hands into fists. Vera could see he was shaking.

Joseph cast a glance back at Vera. “Good night, sweetheart. Be good for Pearson.” He swept out the door and closed it.

Vera’s sobs slowed. Eased. She pressed her face into the floor. Her cheeks were raw from crying. The cement felt good.

“Vera…” Ryan’s voice shook.

She swallowed. “Ryan…” She groaned as she tried to push herself upright. “I…”

He dropped to his knees beside her. He guided her up gently with a hand on her arm. She pressed her hands to her face and took a steadying breath.

_“Vera…”_

She opened her eyes. Ryan was staring at her – No, not her, the _chain._ It ran from her collar to the loop on the floor. Locked. Joseph had the keys.

Ryan licked his lips. “No. Oh, fuck no, no no _no…”_ His voice was heavy with horror.

“Can you still get me out?” Vera murmured. “You can bring… bolt cutters or… or something…”

“How could I smuggle _bolt cutters_ down here without someone noticing?”

“I don’t… I don’t _know…”_ Her voice dropped into a whine.

He pulled her into his chest and held her. Her skin crawled at the feeling of being restrained. Her breath froze in her chest.

He let go and guided her away from him, his eyes wide. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have –”

“You can still get me out?” she whimpered, desperately.

Ryan slowly closed his mouth. “Yeah. I can do it. I’ll figure it out. Okay? I’m going to figure it out.”

_“Please…”_ Her hands reached for his. _“Please.”_

He caught her hands and turned them, inspecting her wrists. “He let you out of these?”

“Yeah. Wanted to give me more _leash.”_ Her lip curled at the word.

He looked up at her, horrified. “…what did he do to you today?”

She set her jaw and looked at the floor. “He let me rest.”

Ryan’s eyes searched her face. “He… let you… _rest?”_

She licked her lips. His taste was still in her mouth, still… She couldn’t tell if she was imagining it. “I’ve been here for two weeks, apparently. He said I’ve been good. Wanted to let me rest.” Her cheeks burned faintly with humiliation. _Humiliation is better than pain._

“Vera…” Ryan’s thumbs smoothed over the tops of her hands. “You… you don’t have to tell me but… what did he _do?”_

Her eyes slid closed. “He made me suck his dick twice. That was the price for resting today.”

She opened her eyes in time to see his squeeze shut. “Oh.”

She shrugged. It tugged at the lashes on her back. “It didn’t hurt.”

Ryan’s breath left his chest all at once. They sat silently together for a moment. He licked his lips. “I brought –”

“No, thank you,” she said dully.

“Vera, you –”

“I just want you to get it over with.”

Ryan bit his lip. “…get it over with?”

She let her hands fall to her sides. “Just… fucking… cut me, so I don’t have to think about it for the rest of the night.”

Ryan’s head dipped and his hair fell into his face for a moment. “Okay.” His eyes moved over her. “Okay.” He stood and went to the wall with the knives. He took one down and returned to her side.

“Ryan, can you just…” She trembled and wrapped her arms around herself. It made the pain flare in her back again. Always, always, pain in her back. She raised her eyes to his, saw tears brimming in them. “Can you just hold me? He touched me all day and I just… I just want… someone… I _trust…_ to hold me.”

Ryan gasped and stared at the floor at the word _trust._ He slowly nodded. “Yeah. Of course. I’ll do anything you want. Whatever you need. Does the um, chain…” He shuddered. “…reach to the wall?”

She nodded. The movement made her collar chafe against her neck.

He walked to the wall and slid down. He placed the knife on the ground beside him.

She experimentally pushed herself up onto her knees, then staggered to her feet. He watched her with concern written all over his face. _I can stand now. Good job, repair sleep._ She stumbled to him, dragging the chain as she went. The sound it made on the cement floor made her skin crawl. She stopped at his side and slid down the wall next to him.

He held his arms out for her, letting her get as close as she wanted. She moved so she was between his legs and leaned her shoulder against his chest. It was almost habit now. Almost normal. His arms came around her. She felt his body heat radiating off of him and into her. _Comfortable. Warm. Good._

His lips pressed against his hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t want to, I’m… I’m so fucking _sorry…”_

“I know,” she whispered back. Her skin already ached in anticipation of the knife.

“Where do you want me to do it? Not your, your back, but… your arms are all cut up already… _Jesus,_ where _hasn’t_ he hurt you…”

“My calves are fine,” she said weakly. “That’s fine.”

He took a deep, shaking breath and picked the knife up. She pressed her head against his shoulder. He gently drew one leg of her pants up until it bunched around her knee. His tightened around the knife and his other hand wound around her waist, pulling her close. “Ready?”

She nodded and turned her face into his shirt. He braced his forearm against her leg and began to cut.

The sharp edge sent a brilliant flash of pain through her. It dragged her out of her exhaustion, pierced into her mind, crushed out the other thoughts. She gasped and whimpered weakly against his chest.

“You can scream, Vera,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you can scream. You never have to… have to stay quiet for me. I’m so sorry…” He brought the knife back to her skin and drew another line of blood right next to the one he’d made.

Her voice rose into a wail as the blade split her skin. She shuddered and clung to Ryan. His arm tightened around her and she hissed as he pressed against the lashes on her back.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I’m so sorry, Vera, I’m sorry…” He made another cut.

She screamed. The sound moved out of her throat, past the collar that rubbed against her skin. She tried to muffle the sound against Ryan’s chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m getting you out. I’m going to get you out. I’m so sorry…”

Another.

“Please,” she begged. “Please stop, I can’t… I can’t take more, not from _you…”_

“I’m sorry.” His voice broke. “You know he won’t be happy with that. Just a few more. I’m sorry.”

He made another cut. Her scream shook the small cell.


	25. Chapter 25

Two days later, Ryan walked in like he’d been delivered a death sentence.

Vera was lying on her back with her hands pulled over her head and shackled to the same anchor point that her collar was chained to. Joseph was straddling her hips, looking down at her heaving chest almost lovingly, at her streaming eyes, at her mouth gaping open. His hands were around her throat, just above the collar. Pressing down.

She barely registered Ryan’s presence. There was nothing, nothing but air and the fact that it _wasn’t there._ She writhed weakly under Joseph’s weight, mindlessly, without any real intention or thought. She couldn’t form words. There was no room in her mind for anything except _he’s taking my air away._

He released her and she gasped. She gagged around the crushing feeling still wrapped around her throat, the ghost of his hands and the collar that was still too tight. Her eyes fluttered shut as she dragged the air in, out. In, out. She didn’t have it in her to sob. She trembled under Joseph as he looked up at Ryan.

“Good evening, Pearson. I’m just finishing up.”

Ryan was looking militantly at Joseph, at the floor, at anything but Vera. Her body quivered with waves of easing panic as the air finally came in. “Evening, sir.”

Joseph looked back down at Vera and let his hand drift gently to her throat again. Her body spasmed in terror, at the soft weight of his hand against her throat. She sobbed out a strangled cry.

“We’ve been reciting her rules. She needs to know them even when she’s beyond panic. Beyond agony.” He smiled. “And she’s been doing very well.”

It was true. He’d been strangling her like this for hours, never quite letting her lose consciousness. Never quite giving her the momentary relief. Never quite risking brain damage. Just always bringing her to the brink of going mad with fear, and forcing her to say the rules.

“What are your rules, Vera?” he asked softly.

Her throat felt too constricted to speak, too constricted with the collar to get the words out. And yet she did.

“Never speak without permission.” Her voice was ragged. Used. “Never eat or sleep unless you let me. Never scream unless you let me. Take all punishments without complaint. Never take off the collar.” Was that her voice saying it? She couldn’t tell. Her lips were moving.

She waited. Pain didn’t come. His hands didn’t tighten around her throat.

_I did it right._

Joseph looked up at Ryan again, his face shining with pride. “What did I tell you? She’s becoming so good.”

Ryan was trembling. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Yes sir. She’s…” He swallowed hard. “…good.”

Joseph got off of her and straightened up, smoothing his clothes. “You got my email?”

Ryan’s face went a shade paler. “Yes, sir. I did. Thank you for the advance notice.”

Joseph nodded cordially. “Of course. It was a rather sudden plan that came together. As always I appreciate your flexibility.” His gaze shifted to Vera. She lay shuddering on the floor, gasping around the collar. “Would you like me to loosen that for you, sweetheart?”

She bit down on her lip until she thought she would scream. _Don’t speak don’t speak don’t speak. Please dear god take it off. Please._

Joseph grinned. “So good.” He knelt beside her and dug in his pocket for the small ring of keys he carried now.

Vera trembled as his fingers brushed her throat below the collar. He gently unlocked the padlock securing it around her throat and loosened it several notches. She took a deep, shuddering breath as the air came unimpeded for the first time in hours. She sobbed her relief.

Ryan let out a breath.

Joseph fingered another key on the ring and reached for the shackles around her wrists. As they came away, she didn’t move. She laid on the floor with her hands still above her head. Gasping.

Joseph stood again and tucked the keys back into his pocket. He turned to face Ryan fully. “Don’t damage her tonight. I need her fresh.”

“Yes, sir,” Ryan said with his head bowed. “I won’t. Won’t damage her.”

Joseph clasped his shoulder. “Good man.” He turned and walked out the cell door, closing it softly behind him.

Vera’s shuddering breaths slowed. The crushing feeling around her throat remained. She brought her hands down to brush softly against the skin there. She wondered if it would bruise just from what Joseph had done to her today. _I’m probably so bruised already, it wouldn’t matter._ She curled onto her side and huddled into herself, ignoring Ryan completely. _I just need to be left alone for a minute. Just for a minute. With nobody touching me or demanding anything or making me say those stupid fucking rules…_

Ryan left for a moment to bring in the tray and water he always brought. He’d been making a habit of leaving them outside until he knew what Joseph had done to her that day. _“I’m always afraid I’ll drop something when I first see what he’s doing,”_ he’d said.

The door creaked as he walked back in. “Vera…”

“Please.” The word came out more like a sob. “Please just… give me a second.”

She heard the shuffle of feet. “…okay.”

She couldn’t stop shuddering. Couldn’t stop the terror that was ratcheting tighter around her throat every time she moved, every time she felt the collar around her throat again.

“I need to get out,” she whispered.

A short intake of breath. “What –”

“I need to get out,” she said, a little stronger this time. “I’m b-breaking, Ryan, I’m breaking, I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t _I can’t I can’t…”_ Her voice rose into choked whimpers.

“I know, Vera, I –”

“You _don’t,”_ she gasped. “I’m breaking, he’s fucking _breaking me_ and I can’t, I _can’t,_ I can’t take much more…” Her insides buzzed with dull agony. “I can’t get out of my body I can’t get out of _here_ please please _please…”_

She felt a hand on her shoulder and cried out, an involuntary reaction she couldn’t control any more than she could hold down her panicked pleas.

“Sorry, Vera, hey –”

Her hand shot out and grabbed Ryan’s wrist. She dragged herself upright, dragged herself almost into his lap, her eyes intense and singularly focused on his. Tears streamed down her face.

_“Please,_ Ryan,” she begged. _“Please, I can’t –”_ She stopped short at the expression on his face. “What…”

Ryan was staring at her with fully-fledged horror in his eyes. Tears ran down his face and his lips trembled around words that weren’t coming.

“Ryan… what is it?” she whispered.

He gasped and held down a sob. “He… he’s having another party tomorrow.”

Despair struck her like a lightening bolt.

“No,” she whispered. She didn’t have the strength to make the word any louder than a breath.

His voice was choked with tears. “I’m sorry. He sent me an email today to ask me to come in late again tomorrow. Said…” He slid into a whine. “Um, the first was such a, um, a success that his colleagues have…” He shuddered. “…requested another.’” He whimpered and reached out to grip her hands. His were cold.

A numb sort of calm started to move through her. _That’s it, then. The plan is too late. He can’t get me out._ Then pain in her body flared, but she almost didn’t feel it over the gripping sense of helplessness that was growing in her. _He couldn’t do it. Ryan couldn’t save me._

A sob tightened in her throat. _All of it, the past… sixteen days, it was all for nothing. He could have ended my suffering weeks ago. I’ve been here, hurting, for_ nothing.

Her eyes squeezed shut and two tears rolled down her cheeks. _But I can’t blame him. He tried._

She bowed her head, trembling. “So you’re going to kill me now.”

“No.”

Her head snapped up, betrayal curdling in her stomach. She felt the hands moving over her the way they did before, the knife, the _pain…_ She felt the violation. She felt the harness tug at her skin. “You’re going to make me –”

“I’m going to kill him for you.”

Her eyes widened at the look on his face. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he set his mouth with bitter determination. His gaze blazed on her skin. His hands weren’t shaking anymore.

“What…”

“I’m going to kill him for you.”

Icy terror trailed down her spine. “Ryan –”

“I can’t let him do this to you. I… I _can’t,”_ he said desperately, clutching at her. His eyes were wide and focused on her. “I can’t… fucking…” His hand went up to his hair and pulled. “I’m gonna kill him for you. I’m gonna take the keys off his body and get you out of this… fucking…” His fingers drifted towards the collar. She went still for a moment. He pulled his hand away. “I was able to convince two of the guys to go tomorrow. They’ll be waiting outside, covering us. I’m going to get you out of here and meet up with them, and then I…” His hands went up on either side of her face. “We’ll run. I don’t fucking care where. But I can’t… I swear to _god_ I can’t let him do this. I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

Her lips were numb. She stared at Ryan, dumbfounded. “Ryan… I don’t…” She slowly wrapped her hands around his wrists and pulled them away from her face. “He’ll… if we don’t make it out, he’ll kill you. And… and me.”

“You said you wanted to die if I couldn’t get you out,” he said softly. “Tomorrow I’m going to get you out or we’re going to die. Both of us.”

There was something in Ryan’s eyes that told her she didn’t need to doubt him. Not even a little. She wet her lips, her eyes moving over his face. “Why…”

His lips trembled and he pressed them together. “I can’t,” he murmured. “I’ve watched what he’s done to you, I’ve _done it,_ and I can’t… _can’t_ let him hurt you anymore. I’m s—” He gasped and looked down, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry I let it get this far. I’m so… I’m so _sorry.”_ He squeezed her hands in his.

Her skin tingled as she swallowed past the collar. _Tomorrow, he’s going to get this off me. One way or another, I’m going to be free. Or at least I’ll die without it on._

He reached behind him, to his waistband. He pulled out a gun and showed it to her. “I’m going to make sure he has the key to your –” The word stuck in his throat. “To the, to the… the… collar.” His lips twisted. “And then I’m going to shoot him.” He tucked the gun away again and met her eyes. “We’re getting out tomorrow, Vera.”

The cell suddenly felt much too small. She reached up and brushed the collar with a shaking hand. “Okay,” she whispered.


	26. Put down your gun and step away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2/2 of the Ryan Reveal. This chapter will go in both stories

As soon as she heard the faint sound of Joseph’s footsteps approaching the door, Vera’s heart went into overdrive. All night, every time she thought about morning coming and Joseph coming down to hurt her again, her blood flooded with an icy, paralyzing terror. _No matter what, after this morning I’ll be out or I’ll be dead. This will be over. One way or another._

She pushed herself up onto her knees, almost without thinking. _This is how he likes me._ Her mind shuddered around the thought as soon as it had formed.

She shot a glance at Ryan. His face was pale, but set. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth together. Her eyes flicked to the gun concealed at his waistband, and back to the door. Her fingers were white from how hard she was squeezing them together.

“No matter what,” he murmured under his breath. She closed her eyes and a shiver moved through her.

She held her breath as the door swung open and Joseph walked in.

“Good morning sweetheart,” he purred. “You’re looking rested. Excellent. I wanted you to be in good shape for tonight.” Her eyes slid shut again and a whimper made its way through her throat. He chuckled. “So Pearson told you about the party tonight?”

She glanced at Ryan. _I can’t speak. But he can._

He quivered with tension and avoided her gaze. “Yes sir,” he said with a shaky grin. “I’m sorry if you wanted to be the one to tell her, but it just kinda… slipped out.”

Joseph was watching Ryan, his piercing eyes moving across Ryan’s body. From his face, to the way his hands were trembling. To his feet, in a bladed stance on the floor. Joseph’s eyes narrowed for a moment and Vera’s heart stuttered in her chest. Joseph’s gaze moved back to her. Her heart started again. Joseph shrugged.

“It wasn’t a secret, Pearson,” Joseph said, speaking a little more softly than before. The chill in his voice made Vera shiver, so much colder than the chill in the room. He took another step towards her and fumbled in his pocket for the keys. “Perhaps you’d like to help me bathe her this time. I’ve found the noises she makes when forced to feel pleasure are almost as good as the ones that come from her agony.” He knelt in front of her and reached for her collar.

Ryan’s hand went back for his gun. He brought it up and aimed it at Joseph, his eyes blazing with a furious intensity.

Joseph’s hand shot into his pocket and he pulled out his knife. He dove behind Vera, shoving her forward in front of him by a hand on her collar. He brought the knife to Vera’s throat. Ryan’s hands jerked and he froze as the blade pressed against her skin, where her pulse beat.

“God _dammit,”_ Joseph hissed. _“Damien!”_

The door to the cell banged open and another man rushed through, his own gun held tight in his hands. His eyes went immediately to Ryan. He aimed his gun at Ryan’s heart.

_“No,”_ Vera sobbed. She reached back to push Joseph in front of her, into the path of Ryan’s bullet. He jerked her head back and dug the blade into her skin. Her body locked into an icy panic.

“God _dammit,”_ Joseph snarled. “God _dammit,_ Pearson, I _knew_ you were going to try something stupid like this. _Fuck!”_

Ryan’s eyes were wide and streaming with tears as his gaze flicked between Vera and the man to his right with the gun aiming at him. “V-Vera…”

“Drop your _fucking_ weapon, Pearson,” Joseph spat. “Drop it, or I cut her throat right now.”

“You won’t fucking do it,” Ryan forced out between clenched teeth. “Fuck you. You won’t do it. Let her fucking _go.”_

The knife pressed harder into her throat and she felt a hot line of blood move down her neck. She gasped and cried out.

“I will, Pearson. If you think I won’t, you haven’t been paying attention. I have no qualms about killing her, and even fewer about killing _you._ Put down your weapon before I have Damien make this decision for you.”

Ryan’s eyes went to Vera’s face and stayed.

She nodded. _Shoot Damien. Do it. Take the shot. Let him kill me. At least one of us will get out alive._ Her lips trembled. Even now, even here with a gun pointed at Ryan’s heart, she couldn’t speak. _He hasn’t let me yet. He’ll hurt me worse if I do._ She whimpered and the knife bobbed with the motion of her throat.

The gun was trembling in Ryan’s hands. Tears fell from his face onto the floor. “Don’t kill her,” he whispered.

“Then put your _fucking_ gun on the ground and step away,” Joseph barked.

Ryan’s hands dipped lower.

“Ryan, _no!”_ Vera screamed. Joseph jerked the collar back. She gagged as it constricted around her throat.

Ryan pressed his lips together. “If I put this down, don’t fucking kill her. This was me. Not her.”

Vera whined as the knife pressed harder against her throat, sending another stream of blood down her neck. _If he goes much deeper he’s going to kill me. Then Ryan won’t have anything stopping him._ She reached up and wrapped her hand around Joseph’s wrist, pressing the knife in harder. _I’m dead anyway._

Joseph jerked as he felt the pressure on his hand. _“Bad girl,_ Vera,” he said in her ear. “I’m the one who kills you, nobody else. Not you. You belong to _me.”_ She whimpered.

“Take the _fucking_ knife away from her throat.” Ryan’s face was beaded with sweat. He winced as some ran into his eyes. “I’m not dropping my gun until you do.”

Joseph chuckled. “Alright. Damien, drop him if he doesn’t put his gun down.” Joseph pulled the knife away from Vera’s neck. She sobbed with relief, mixed in with despair. It was poison in her blood.

Ryan raised his hands, his right still clutching the gun. He leaned forward and slowly lowered the weapon to the ground. He stepped back and his hands went back up above his head.

“Cuff him, Damien.” Vera trembled in Joseph’s grasp as his breath warmed the back of her neck. Damien stepped forward and yanked Ryan’s hands behind his back. He pulled a pair of handcuffs out of a back pocket and clicked them onto Ryan’s wrists. Ryan was staring at her, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Ryan, _no,”_ Vera sobbed. “No no no… Ryan…” Joseph shifted behind her and stood. The hand on her collar moved up her neck to tangle in her hair. He snapped her head back, looking down at her as he forced her to look up at him.

“You were being so good,” he whispered, betrayal thick in his voice. “You were being so fucking good for me, Vera.” He glanced at Ryan. “I thought he might be planning something monumentally stupid, but not…” He clicked his tongue. “…not _you. Bad girl, Vera.”_ She shuddered under the weight of his words. He turned to look at Ryan, tilting his head as he considered him. “Get him on his knees.”

_“No,”_ gasped Vera.

Ryan’s eyes flicked to hers as Damien kicked the back of one knee, and he dropped to the floor.

Joseph slowly crossed the cell to him, watching him closely the entire time. He paused in front of Ryan and twirled the knife idly in his hand. He looked up and nodded once at the guard. “Thank you, Damien,” he said calmly. The man grunted and took a step back to stand in the corner.

Joseph looked down at Ryan, tilting his head this way, then that way. Ryan glared up at him with vicious fury. Joseph reached out with one hand and slowly grasped Ryan’s hair. Ryan went still at the touch and his lips pulled back over his teeth.

Joseph pulled his hand back and slapped Ryan across the face. Vera cried out as Ryan gasped and nearly fell onto his shoulder. Joseph’s hand went back to Ryan’s hair and jerked his head up again.

“You thought you could take my _fucking plaything from me?”_ Joseph hissed. “After all I let you do to her, you thought you could claim her for yourself? You _stupid_ fucking boy.” Joseph’s hand pulled Ryan’s head back farther and exposed his neck. “You stupid, _ungrateful_ boy. I gave you a job, I let you _fuck my plaything,_ and you still thought you could take her from me?”

“I didn’t want to _fucking claim her,_ you _fucking rapist,”_ Ryan snarled at him. “I didn’t want her like that. I _never did._ You…” More tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “You _made me do that.”_

Joseph laughed once, mockingly. “As if you could resist,” he said, drawing Ryan’s face back farther. “As if you could look at her and not want her, after I’ve made her so good.”

_“I NEVER WANTED TO HURT HER,”_ Ryan roared at him.

Joseph leaned back in surprise. His hand relaxed momentarily in Ryan’s hair. He glanced back at Vera, and down at Ryan again. His face broke into a grin.

“Oh my… _god,”_ Joseph said softly. He bent closer over Ryan until his neck was arched back by Joseph’s hand. “Did you… develop… _feelings_ … for my plaything, Pearson?”

All the air rushed out of Vera’s lungs. Every moment she’d spent with Ryan, every touch, every time his hands had moved over her, helping her, cleaning the evidence of Joseph’s tortures away from her skin, every time he’d held her as she’d cried, all loomed over her at once. Every time he’d _fucked_ her. _Was he really enjoying it, this whole time? Was he lying to_ me, _too?_ She felt something crack inside her, something that threatened to shatter her completely. _This whole time, was he just using his power over me? Was he hoping to claim me for himself, once we were free? Was he going to put me right back into a collar, one that_ he _chose for me?_ Her skin crawled as every memory of his hands on her came rushing through her mind all at once.

She met Ryan’s eyes, and the look she found there put her back together again. Her heart plummeted to the floor. _No. He really cared about me. The whole time._

Ryan looked up at Joseph, and the loathing in his eyes could have withered Joseph’s skin. “I never wanted to hurt her,” Ryan growled through his teeth.

“How sweet,” Joseph mocked. He jerked Ryan’s head to the side so he had to look at Vera. “I hope she was worth your life.”

“Joseph, _no!”_ Vera gasped, and threw herself forward.

Joseph’s head snapped towards her and his eyes narrowed with rage. _“Joseph?”_

“Please, no!” Vera begged. “Please no, he… he’s good, he didn’t… do anything _wrong…”_ Tears burned in her eyes.

“He tried to take you from me,” Joseph said, his voice going low and dangerous.

She looked only at Ryan now. She felt like she would tear apart from the inside out, from the terror and desperation on his face, from the unwavering look of determination in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You’re proven you can’t be trusted when you’re not chained down,” Joseph said softly to her, contempt twisting his features. “Glad I made the decision to chain you when I did.” He stepped behind Ryan and jerked his head back with a hand in his hair. He held the knife to Ryan’s throat.

_“No!”_ Vera shrieked. She shot forward and gagged when the collar jerked her to a stop.

Ryan flinched and moved to stand. Joseph pressed the knife against his throat. The skin opened immediately and Ryan froze, a gasp of pain seizing his chest.

Joseph’s eyes were fixed on Vera. Poisonous satisfaction pulled the corners of his mouth up into a deadly grin. “Your real punishment will come tonight at the party, Vera,” he hissed. “Until then, take this as punishment. His death is on you.”

The knife cut deep into Ryan’s throat.

_“NO!”_ Vera screamed. The threw herself forward against the chain. A choked sob tore from her as Ryan slumped to the floor, blood pouring from the gaping slash in his neck. “No no no… _Ryan!”_ She reached for him, tried to pull him away from Joseph. Tried to staunch the bleeding. _Something._ “No,” she sobbed. “No, Ryan… I’m so sorry… _Please…”_ The collar closed around her throat, seeming to drag her back away from Ryan’s body. Ryan shuddered and choked on the floor, blood gurgling in his throat. She strained against the collar, eyes streaming. Trying to touch him. Reach him. Her hands left smears in his blood.


	27. Chapter 27

Ryan’s blood was already cooling on Vera’s hands. Her screams tore the room apart, echoed off the walls, pierced into her own ears until she felt sick.

_“RYAN, RYAN NO, PLEASE, RYAN, NO…”_

She stared into his empty eyes, blue-green and dull, at the blood that stained his face, at the gaping slash in his throat. The collar closed around her throat as she clawed forward, shrieking her agony. _HE CAN’T BE DEAD NO RYAN HE CAN’T BE DEAD._ The smell of his blood made her head swim.

She turned and retched on the floor. Her body shuddered as she sobbed.

_“RYAN NO PLEASE, RYAN, NO!”_

A hand closed around her hair and she stiffened. The hand dragged her head back, arching her neck, forcing her to look up at the man whose clothes were stained with Ryan’s blood. He was smiling like a fiend.

“You’ve been a _bad girl,_ Vera,” he hissed. “You betrayed me. You _lied_ to me. You conspired with Pearson to escape me. Now look at him.” He jerked her head down and forced her to look at him. She wailed and tried to turn her head away.

Joseph yanked her back again. “This is _your fault._ He is dead because you were disobedient. He is dead because you were _bad.”_ His lips curled up over his teeth. “And now I have to punish you. Now I have to _make you good.”_

_“No,”_ Vera sobbed. The smell of blood was drilling spikes into her head. Her eyes slid shut and tears rolled down the sides of her face.

Joseph’s hand tightened in her hair. “I have to clean you up first. Clean up my floor. After that, when my friends come, I’m going to tell you their job is to punish you. And they are going to punish you until you are _good_ again.”

_“Please,”_ Vera heaved out. “Please, _no…”_

Joseph viciously jerked her head back. “First rule Vera,” he growled.

The rules were nothing. The rules were meaningless. Ryan was dead. It was over. She was never going to get out.

There was no point in the rules. No point at all.

She cried out as Joseph twisted her head back further. _“Rules, Vera.”_

She couldn’t quiet her sobbing long enough to get them out. _Ryan is dead. There is nothing left._

Joseph’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. You force me to make you good.”

He threw her down and shoved her onto her back. He straddled her hips and dug his hand into his pocket for the keys. His hand emerged and he fumbled at her collar. His fingers trembled against her throat. He unlocked the chain from the collar and dragged her closer to Ryan. She turned her head away from Joseph and reached out to Ryan. Joseph threw her back into the puddle of his blood. She fell with a faint smacking sound against the concrete.

She barely felt it as Joseph tore her pants off. Her hand wound into Ryan’s shirt. His skin was already cooling. Joseph opened the front of his pants and knelt between her legs. Vera’s hand went to Ryan’s hair and she smoothed her bloody fingers through. Joseph grabbed her hips and lifted her slightly towards him.

As Joseph forced himself inside her, her hand tightened in Ryan’s hair. Her eyes squeezed shut as Joseph leaned over her.

“This is because of you,” he rasped in her ear. “His death is because of you. You are lying in his blood because of _you.”_

She focused on the feeling of Ryan’s skin under her hand. She grasped the back of his neck.

“Did he love you, plaything?” Joseph snarled. “Did he fuck you softly when I wasn’t around? Did you _like_ it? Did he think you were his to make love to? Did you think he was yours?”

_No. He didn’t make love to me. He raped me, for you. And he loved me. He was going to save me._ Her hand tightened in Ryan’s hair as Joseph thrust into her.

“You are my _property,”_ he growled, and bit down hard on her neck. Her body screamed. She opened her eyes and looked at Ryan beside her. Dead. Growing cold. “And you will never, _never_ leave me. Look at him, Vera. I’m fucking you in his blood because of _you.”_

A tear rolled down the side of her face into her hair. He was hurting her. She could feel it, faintly. She could barely feel it over the agony that split her mind as she stared into Ryan’s empty eyes.

Joseph was already finishing. The pain, the blood… She knew, faintly, that it was her anguish that was driving him to his climax. She was grateful that it would end soon. She had no room for anything else.

He pumped into her and cried out as he came. She lay limp in Ryan’s blood. Her hand still moved through his hair. Joseph pulled out and stood. His clothes were soaked in blood.

“Damien,” he snapped. “Get someone to take care of this, and mop the floor. Bring me some new clothes. I need to get her ready.”

She’d forgotten there was another person there.

Joseph’s hand closed around the collar and he dragged her upright. She screamed as he tore her away from Ryan. Ryan’s body lurched slightly as she strained to keep her grip on him. He slipped from her fingers.

As Joseph dragged her towards the washroom, her feet scrabbled on the floor. She felt herself wobbling, her grasp on her own body starting to slip. Her mind spun and she felt the emptiness coming up to meet her, the void into which she could disappear. She welcomed it. She slipped under.

Ryan was dead, but he was far away. Across the room from her. Miles from her. Years from her. He disappeared from her sight as Joseph dragged her through the doorway to the washroom.

He ripped her shirt over her head as she slumped to the floor beside him. Completely naked, but wrapped in the mantle of nothingness. She was staring at her body through the wrong end of a telescope. Joseph grabbed her hair and shoulder and hurled her into the tub. She crumpled into it, completely limp.

Joseph turned on the tap and water splashed over her. She shivered and cringed into herself. The water was cold, the water was hot, the water was numb. _She_ was numb. She didn’t know what temperature the water was. Her skin erupted in goosebumps.

Joseph’s hand fisted in her hair and he held her head under the tap. The sudden presence of water in her nose made her buck against his hand. She coughed and could breathe again. Red-streaked water streamed from her hair.

His hands were rough as he scrubbed the blood from her body. Some of it stayed. She could still smell it.

Someone in the other room was talking. Laughing. A figure appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, boss. Can we just hook up a hose and hose it all down? Turn up the ventilation to dry it out?”

“That’s fine,” Joseph growled, not turning away from his work. The figure disappeared.

Shampoo smell filled the room. Suds in her hair. Pink froth. It disappeared down the drain. Again, pink froth. Down the drain. Again. Clean froth.

A rough towel scrubbing at her skin. Pink water running down her body. Joseph didn’t bother stoppering the tub. He let the water run over her and down the drain.

_Am I cold?_ She shuddered.

Joseph scrubbing the blood away didn’t matter. Ryan’s blood had soaked into her pores. Soaked into her soul. It was running through her own veins now. Ryan’s blood would never scrub off.

Joseph was grunting as he cleaned her, almost sounding like he was crying. She wouldn’t look at him. She watched Ryan’s blood whirl down the drain. She could still smell it. Still smell it.

“I should end your life, plaything. I should end your life for trying to escape me. I should kill you for plotting with Pearson to kill me.”

_Please do it. That would be fine._

“You were so good for me, Vera. I thought you were being so _good.”_ The word came out as a sob.

_I_ was _good. I was being good for you._

“Now I have to punish you. Now I have to show you what happens when you disobey me like this.”

_What else could you possibly do? How much more could you break me?_

“Look at me, Vera.”

A slap.

_“Look at me!”_

She turned her eyes from the drain up to his. The cold blue-grey was stormy, blazing with fury. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he looked down at her, his lips twisting with rage. His hand went around her neck, over the collar. He dragged her forward until she was halfway out of the tub. Her wet hair dripped on the floor.

“You were being so good,” he whispered.

He threw her backwards and her head hit the wall with a _crack._ She lay in the bottom of the tub, stunned. The water ran over her bare legs.

_“Damien!”_ Joseph shouted. “Have you cleaned that mess up?”

“Almost done, sir,” came the reply.

“Use the fucking hydrogen peroxide,” Joseph yelled.

“Found it, boss. Almost done.”

The figure appeared in the doorway again. “What do you want us to do with the body? We’ve got it in a body bag so it doesn’t –”

“Throw it in the fucking river. In a manhole. I don’t care. Just get _rid of it.”_

_Ryan isn’t an ‘it.’ Ryan is a man. Ryan is a good man._

_Ryan was a good man._

“Nuh—” Her tongue felt too big for her mouth.

_“Shut up,”_ he growled at her.

“No—”

The slap made her ears ring. “Shut your _fucking mouth, Vera.”_

She shook her head slowly. “Let me… say… goodbye…”

Joseph grabbed her by the throat and shoved her back against the wall. “You don’t get to say goodbye to him, you fucking _plaything!”_ he shouted in her face. Spittle flew from his mouth. “You don’t get to say goodbye to the person who tried to take you away from me. You will never see him again. He will rot in a shallow grave or at the bottom of the river and it is _your fault.”_

Tears streamed down Vera’s face. “I…”

_“Shut up!”_ he screamed. _“Never speak without permission!”_

“I hate you,” she whispered.

He hauled her out of the tub. The edges scraped along her stomach and hips. She heard it, but didn’t feel it. He flipped her onto her back and pinned her to the floor. _“Why won’t you SHUT UP!”_

“I hate you,” she said, a little louder.

His hand closed around her throat.

Panic sparked dully in the back of her mind. Her hands pushed against his mindlessly, almost like her body didn’t care, either. He leaned over her and hissed in her ear, “If I wasn’t having a party tonight, I would beat you to death right here.” Her eyes rolled back. “You are a _bad girl,_ and you deserve to _die_ like the broken toy you are.” He threw a punch against her side. She tried to drag in a gasp through a throat that felt like it was collapsing. A drop fell onto her face. Joseph was crying. “But I want my friends to enjoy you, as little damaged as possible. I want them doing their damage on your body while it’s still beautiful. I want them to be able to _destroy you.”_

_I’m already destroyed. You killed me when you killed Ryan._

He let go. She dragged in a gasp. _After everything, my body still wants to live._

_“Damien!_ Are you finished?”

“Yes, sir. Just carrying the body out, but the floor is done.”

Joseph’s hand tightened in her hair. He dragged her from the washroom back into the cell.

Ryan was gone. The blood was gone. All that was left, the only evidence of the life Joseph had bled all over the floor, was an unmistakable reddish stain across the floor. The room smelled like hydrogen peroxide. Water ran slowly towards the edges of the room, into the drains every few feet against the wall. The dull hum of the ventilator system buzzed in Vera’s ears louder than she had ever heard it. She shivered as the water dried on her skin.

Joseph dragged her to the middle of the floor and shoved her down, using the hand on her collar to force her head against the floor. He snapped with his other hand. “Damien. Handcuffs.” Damien walked to the wall and grabbed a pair. “Something I love about handcuffs, sweetheart,” he growled in her ear, “is how fucking _versatile_ they are.” He held out his hand to take them.

He clicked one end on the cuffs through the ring on her collar. The other end he locked to the anchor on the floor. He released her collar and stood. She didn’t move.

He went to the wall and pulled down the other pair. He pulled her arms behind her and clicked them around her wrists. She lay motionless, still. He walked to the wall and lowered the rope that hung nearly over her head until it reached the ground.

“Get on your knees, Vera.” She lay limp and unmoving on the ground. He grabbed her hips and yanked her up onto her knees. The cuffs on her collar snapped tight. He tied the end of the rope to the handcuffs on her wrists, went to the wall, and started to pull.

Vera realized what he was doing as her arms lifted into the air behind her. He pulled the rope tighter, forcing her to go up on her knees and sit up as far as the short leash on her neck would let her. She was folded in half at the waist, her collar chained to the floor, her arms pulled up and behind her. If she let herself fall forward, the cuffs dug into her wrists. If she tried to spare her wrists, the collar would pull tight around her neck and send shooting pains down her back. She was bent, exposed, digging the balls of her feet into the floor. She let out a strangled cry.

Joseph knelt beside her and put his lips to her ear. “I’ll be back in a few hours to let you down, Vera,” he sneered. “Then it’ll be in another position. Then another, until my friends get here.” He pulled her wet hair away from her face and smiled at her expression of agony. “I want you to think about what you’ve done, and what led you to this. I want you to think about being good for me.” He licked a stripe from her ear to her collarbone and released her hair. He stood.

“Damien,” he snapped. “Check on her every now and then, will you? Every hour or so. If she falls asleep or loses consciousness, beat her until she wakes.”

A snicker. “Yes, sir.”

Joseph wound up and smacked her on the ass. She screamed and felt the welt immediately rise. “Be good for me, Vera.” He turned and left. Vera heard the unmistakable sound of a body bag being dragged across the ground before the door closed.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another really rough one. Please see the new tags and be safe

Vera passed agony hours ago. She still danced around the corners of her mind, not quite settling into her body, not quite leaving. The feeling getting through was enough to drive her insane. She was grateful, so grateful, that she wasn’t fully there.

After the first few hours, Joseph had come back to the cell and unlocked her collar from the ground. He’d tied the rope to her collar and pulled her up until she was standing up on her knees. He had replaced the cuffs around her wrists with his good silk rope still tying them behind her back, and tied them down to the anchor so she couldn’t stand up. Then had had tightened the rope on her collar just enough that the collar pulled at her throat. Just enough to make her panic. Not enough to take away her air. Every time she swayed, the collar pulled tight on her neck and she choked for a moment. Her knees were on fire.

When he’d come back hours after that, he had Damien hold her while he bent her legs and tied them that way so her feet rested against her ass. The rope around her wrists stayed, and he tied them to the back of the collar, wrists pulled up her back. If she wanted to give her shoulders a rest, she would choke herself. If she wanted to breathe, she had to hold up her arms. Then he forced her to squat and tied the rope around her collar so she couldn’t fall over without choking herself. She couldn’t straighten her legs, with them tied up bent.

He hadn’t fed her, either.

Joseph looked down at her in this position hours later, a smile on his face. The day had seemed to dampen his fury at her somewhat. He was no longer screaming. No longer crying.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purred. “Are you ready to be good again?”

She nodded emphatically against the collar. She was willing to do anything to make the pain stop.

He smiled. “Good. Good girl. My friends will be here in a few minutes. I say we let you out of this and into something more comfortable, yes?” Again, a desperate nod. “Alright.” His fingers were gentle on the collar as he untied the rope from overhead. It gave way and she pitched onto her side. She cried out.

“Shh, sweetheart, I didn’t give you permission to scream.” His hands went to the rope tying her hands to her collar. As they eased down her back, Vera forced down a strangled gasp. He untied her legs and she stretched them out, nearly dizzy with relief.

Joseph reached down and tied her again to the anchor with several feet of slack by the length rope still around her wrists. She lay on the floor, dragging in ragged gasps. The pain in all her lash marks was nothing. Nothing compared to the relief of being set free from that position.

Joseph tapped his face with one finger. “How do I want you for when my guests arrive?” His eyes moved over the wall with its many ropes and restraints. His eyes settled on a pair of leather ankle cuffs. “Hm. Yes, that sounds lovely.” He went to the wall and pulled them down.

She didn’t move as he buckled the cuffs around her ankles. He tied them together and looked down the length of Vera’s body. “Vera,” he said softly. Almost gently. “Get on your knees.”

She didn’t even consider obeying. _Kill me, fucker. Just kill me. I’m done being good for you. I’m done._

Joseph clucked his tongue at her. “Ah. So we have to start over. No matter.” He kicked her hard in the stomach. She grunted and rolled over, trying to shield herself from him. “Good. Halfway there. Get on your _fucking knees.”_

Something broke in Vera’s mind. _I just don’t want to hurt._ She whimpered softly and rolled to her knees. The short leash of rope tying her wrists to the floor pulled tight.

“Good girl.” Joseph untied the rope around her wrists and eased her hands around in front of her. She pushed herself up on her hands and knees, her ankles still tied together. He tied her wrists once again and tied them down to the anchor point, this time leaving no leash at all. He pulled the length of rope around her ankles forward and passed the rope through the D ring on her collar. He pulled the rope tight. She was tied in a kneeling position, her ankles tied to her collar, forcing her ass up into the air with her knees slightly splayed to the side. She moaned.

“Hm,” Joseph sighed contentedly. “Perfect. I’ll be back, Vera. I have to go get my guests.” He left her there like that.

There was no room in Vera’s mind for anything but numbness. The horror of Ryan’s murder had scraped her hollow. There was nothing left. This cell was where she was going to suffer until her death. The cut on her throat prickled.

_I was so close. If I’d just pushed his hand a little harder…_

The door opened again and three men walked in. _Only three. Huh._

One whistled. “Joseph. My god. You weren’t kidding when you said you were going to spoil us.” The voice was unfamiliar.

“I told you, Robert. Exquisite.” _That_ voice she knew. _Grayson? Garret?_

“Gentlemen,” Joseph said gently. “Greg, you’ve already met my plaything.” _Greg. That’s right._ “But Robert… I’m very happy to let you play with her. I only ask that you do nothing that would injure her so badly as to need medical attention that would take her out of the room.”

“Uh…” Greg looked carefully at Joseph. “Last time I was here, you had two other stipulations…”

Joseph waved his hand at the question behind the words. “No problem this time. You do what you wish with her.” He looked down at her, a smug grin smeared across his face. “She has been… horribly disobedient. She’s been _bad._ I would like the three of us to make her good again.”

Vera almost had to laugh. _So that’s why he didn’t let me eat today._

“Fantastic,” Robert breathed. He took a step closer to her, rubbing his hands together, his eyes moving over Joseph’s instruments. “As much as I’m just… _dying_ to take advantage of that offer…” He found what he was looking for and crossed to the wall. He took down a cane. “I’d like to break her in a little first. Mark her up. It looks like you’ve been doing that already… _Jesus,_ her back… That’s beautiful…”

Joseph waved a hand at her. “Be my guest. She is yours to do with what you please.”

Robert grinned. “Ass up, sweetheart,” he ordered, a dark, vicious joy in his eyes. Her elbows buckled under her at the despair that struck her. He took that as his sign to start.

He brought the cane down on her ass with a _crack._ Her keening cry echoed through the room.

“Oh, Robert,” Joseph said, interrupting. “I have rules with her. She may not scream without permission. Do you –”

“Oh, _fuck_ yes,” Robert breathed. “I want to hear her scream. _Fuck,_ what a voice.”

“Would you like her gagged?”

Robert tilted his head. “Maybe later. For now…” He wound up and struck her again. Her throat immediately went raw from her scream. _“Fuck.”_

Again. The blows chased her out of her mind faster now. She felt her skin split, felt the blood running down the backs of her legs.

Between her screams, she could hear the other two talking. “Can I… Joseph, I’d really love for her to…”

“Anything you want, Greg.”

_“Fuck,_ I want her to suck me off as he does that. Do you have a ring gag…?”

“You sure you don’t want to try without?” Joseph laughed good-naturedly and went to the wall to get it down.

The man behind her cackled with joy. “My _god._ She is spectacular. How is she…?”

Joseph answered from over at the wall. “Equally good. She takes whatever I give. And… I like to keep her in line, don’t always like to let her scream, but…” He groaned. “The sounds she makes while I’m fucking her are excellent.” He took down the ring gag and passed it to Greg.

“I might have to try that, then.” Another stripe across her backside. She felt vague fire across her skin.

Joseph’s hand went to her hair and tightened viciously. He dragged her forward, closer to his friend. Her knees scraped along the cement floor, taking off the first few layers of skin.

“Here, Greg, will you…?”

“Of _course.”_

Joseph’s hand fisted in her hair and he dragged her head back. The rope strained against her ankles and she shifted backward to relieve the tension. The movement pushed her hips further into the air.

“Oh, _perfect,”_ Robert groaned. He cracked the cane across the very tops of the backs of her thighs. The blow struck her sex.

She convulsed and screamed, the pain breaking through the fog in her mind. Joseph shoved the gag between her teeth as her mouth pulled open in agony. She sobbed as he pulled the straps behind her head and buckled them.

“Greg, do you want to –”

_“Christ,_ I’ve been thinking about this for two weeks.” The man lowered himself to the floor in front of her, his pants already open. His cock was already erect and sticking out of his pants. “Joseph, these parties would be more fun if they were somewhere that didn’t look like a damn prison cell.” A laugh.

“You think you would like her in some plush room, all dressed up like the poor slave things at Derek’s house?” Joseph laughed. “No. She’s ferocious, and she breaks _hard._ She belongs here.”

The man’s cock was in her mouth and she couldn’t think.

She slipped a little more.

He pushed all the way to the back of her throat immediately and she gagged. Her body heaved forward mindlessly at another strike against her ass. She writhed in the man’s grip, pulling hard against the fist in her hair. The rope around her collar kept her head down. She moaned in despair.

“She’s much better this time. How has she been disobedient?” More pressure against the back of her throat, again and again.

“Ah.” A low laugh. “She and my night guard were plotting together to kill me and escape.”

“Oh.” The man dragged her forward until his cock slammed with bruising speed against the back of her throat. “I see that didn’t work out for them.”

“No. You’re actually sitting where I took his life.”

“I wondered what the stain was. Too bad. You should have kept him. We could have played with him.”

_No. I would rather die than see them torture Ryan._

_I would rather die than see them kill Ryan._

_I want to die._

_Crack._ Another distant sting against her ass. “I can’t control myself any longer, Joseph. I _have_ to try her out.” The sound of a zipper.

_No._ Her muscles strained against the rope, and the skin around her ankles burned. She was bound too tightly to move. To tightly to struggle. She pushed weakly against the rope around her wrists, desperately pulling back from the man forcing his cock into her mouth.

“Ah, that won’t do. Robert, come help me do this while Greg finishes?”

“And then I can fuck her?”

“We can fuck her together, if you wish.”

“Oh, _god_ yes. I want her ass.”

“Let me prep her first for that.”

_No. No no. I’ve never… no… they’re going to fucking destroy me…_

Then…

_Ryan is dead. I’m going to die here. What the fuck does it matter what they do to me first?_

Deeper thrusts into her mouth. _He was quick last time, too._ Moans breaking on her ears, above her head. “Fuck. _Fuck,_ she’s so good. _Fuck!”_ A spray of the man in her mouth. _It’s done._ The man released her hair. She slumped forward, almost into his crotch.

“Looks like she wants to go again, Greg. Was your cock really that good?”

A laugh. “Maybe she can have me again, later.”

“I want to hear her beg while we do this.”

She felt pressure, in a place she’d never felt it before. Cold lube, and the press of something into her, forcing her open, _preparing her._

“That’s not a problem.”

The ring gag was pulled from her mouth, and her jaw hung open as she sagged. The man pushed himself away from her and she fell forward. Her cheek pressed against the cold cement floor. The collar tugged relentlessly on her skin.

“How would you like to do it?”

“I have an idea.”

The rope around her ankles loosened and fell away. She crumpled onto her side with a moan of relief. Her legs straightened out behind her.

“Let’s get her hands tied behind her, we’ll start there.”

The rope around her wrists loosened, fell away. In one clumsy burst of energy, she threw an elbow back at the man closest to her. She didn’t know who. She didn’t care.

“Whoa! There’s that fire. She’s a little duller than she was last time I was here. You’ve been doing great things with her. Really, you have.”

“You have no idea. She’s been a real fright at times.”

Her arms were pulled behind her and tied again.

“I like the rope. It’s nice.”

“I can refer you to the shop I use. Mostly for fetish toys, but they understand my tastes.”

“Now what?”

“If you’ll get the other rope from the wall… Yes, the red. I think that’ll look incredible on her skin. Then…”

She was pushed onto her back. The ceiling spun above her and for a moment it looked almost like the floor. She was on the ceiling now, watching what they were doing. Which way was up? The floor was stained with Ryan’s blood, she knew that. That was how she’d keep the ceiling and the floor straight in her mind. The rope tightened around one leg at the crook of her knee. She felt the smooth trail of the rope on her skin as it was pulled through the D ring on the front of her collar. Then her other leg was bent up, the rope tied around the crook of that knee, pulling her legs up and open to the sides.

“Perfect. Now I think we’ll suspend her. Hang her up between us, so we can get to her on either side.”

“You’re a genius, Jo—”

A throat cleared.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. You mentioned…”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now. She knows my name.”

“Oh. Will you…”

“Don’t worry. Tonight is about punishing her infractions. Tomorrow, I make her good again. She will never remember my name when I’m done with her.”

The rope suspended from the ceiling looped around her chest, just under her armpits. Pulled tight. There was a sudden emptiness in the air around her as the men stepped back and started to lift her.

Somewhere deep in her mind, almost beyond her reach, was the pain. She felt the burn across her skin as the rope dragged her upright, rubbing her raw under her arms. Her head fell back as her body sobbed.

Slowly, she left the ground. Hands tied behind her, legs pulled up and spread, rope pulling her into the air. Her ribs ached. Her face was slick with tears.

“That’s about perfect.”

She swayed slowly, head hanging loosely on her neck. She felt the press of bodies around her, then. Felt fingers at her sex. Pressing in. Fingers at her ass. Pulling out what they had put in her.

“Hand me the lube, will you? Always feels better when they’re slick.”

“You don’t have to worry about hurting her, Robert. This is for punishment.”

“Yeah, but _I_ like the feeling of it.”

“Fair enough.”

“Fuck, she looks spectacular. All trussed up for us. With her legs open like that.”

“Despite her disobedience, she is exquisite.”

“God, I want her. Together?”

“Perfect. Greg, are you…?”

“I’m happy to watch. I want to join in later, but now…” There was an obscene moan as his hand closed around his own cock and started to stroke.

A whisper in her ear. “I’m fucking you with my friend, Vera. Because you were a bad girl. We’re making you good now, do you understand?”

Her eyes were open. She was watching herself from far away.

A slap. Her head rocked to the side. She shook it weakly.

“Answer me, Vera. Hold off, Robert. Wait just a moment.”

“Okay. Let me keep getting her ready.” She felt a finger inside her, where the toy had been. She shuddered.

“Look at me, Vera.”

Her eyes rolled in her head. She felt his breath on her face. She did her best to focus her eyes. Where were her eyes? Her eyelids fluttered and she saw Joseph’s face inches from hers. Miles from hers.

“We are fucking you in the spot where Ryan died. Because you were bad. And I want you to remember this. Every moment you plotted against me, every moment you shared with him when he held you and claimed for his own, even for a moment…” More fingers inside her. “…this is what became of those moments. This is _because of you.”_ Hands grasping her hips until they bruised. “Ready, Robert?”

_“God,_ yes.”

Both men pressed into her.

Somewhere miles away, years ago, pain lanced through her pelvis. The tearing intrusion in her sex was familiar, but there was a second pain, deep inside her, deep where nothing had ever been before, not in her whole life. She’d never wanted it. Her mind swirled dizzily around the feeling, the lack of feeling, the sensation of watching the two men press themselves into the openings in her body, as if from another room. They pushed themselves in to the hilt, pressing their hips against hers, lifting her almost a little against the constant agony that was the rope around her chest. _If they go deep inside me, they make the rope not hurt as much. Maybe I’ll take that._

They both got into a rhythm.

Joseph, in front of her, one fist in her hair and one digging into her hip. His teeth tearing into her skin, on her shoulder, her neck, drawing blood. Her blood was on her lips and he laughed. He dragged her mouth against his and she could taste the faint iron tang of her blood on his tongue. She splintered more. Drifted away.

The man behind her was fucking into her harder and harder, his hands around her front and twisting her nipples, wrapping around her throat, digging his fingernails into her waist until it broke the skin. Both of them, rutting into her, groaning against her skin, panting together.

And yet she was anywhere but there. She was on the ceiling, lying on the floor, standing just beside herself. Watching and not watching. Covering her eyes. Looking away. Forced to be still.

The rope crushed her flesh around her chest, dug into the backs of her knees, tightened around her wrists when she mindlessly pulled against it. Somewhere, her body was feeling agony. Somewhere, she was hurting.

She must have been. Her mouth was open and begging.

“…please, please no, please stop, please, _please…_ god, no, _fuck,_ Ryan, Ryan please… help me… _please…_ Ryan _please help me…”_

“Who the fuck is Ryan?”

“The idiot who tried to steal her.”

The man behind her pulled her head away from Joseph’s grasp and put his lips to her ear. “You’re thinking about Ryan while we do this to you?”

Her lips moved, with no thought behind it whatsoever. Like a reflex. Like an involuntary flinch. “Ryan please, please… no, please don’t… god… please just kill me, just kill me… Ryan… help me… please…”

A low chuckle in her ear. “Just pretend it’s Ryan, sweetheart. You like that? You like when Ryan fucks you?”

“I had him fuck her, a few times. He said he did it more when I wasn’t—” A hard thrust. She rose up and cried out. _“—there._ Starting to think he never did.”

“I bet she liked it.”

A hand around her throat. “I bet she did.”

“There you go, sweetheart. Pretend I’m Ryan. Pretend I’m Ryan, standing behind you, _fucking_ you in the ass as your owner fucks your pussy. You like that, don’t you?”

_No. I wish I was dead. I don’t like it. I wish I was dead. I wish he had killed me with Ryan. I wish Ryan had let him kill me, and got away._

“Fuck, I’m getting close already.”

“I told you. She’s incredible.”

“God, I just… Christ…”

“There you go, sweetheart. You’re being so good. Helping my friend. Taking your punishment.”

“Oh, _fuck!”_ He shoved his hips against hers, lifting her up enough that the rope barely tugged on her at all. Her head dropped back in relief.

“She liked that. Jesus, look at her face.”

“Good girl, Vera. You see? This is how we make you good again.” A groan.

“Ah. Fuck. _Fuck,_ she was good.”

“Vera… sweetheart…” A moan from Joseph. His head fell to her shoulder as he came, too.

“Jesus.” A pause.

A voice from farther away. Greg. “Fuck, watching you two do that… I just want… I just want to _beat_ her now.”

“Be my guest.” The men stepped away. Vera moaned from the relief of the sudden emptiness in her pelvis. The rope holding her up wobbled, then gave as Joseph released it. She crashed to the floor. She landed hard on her hip. Her mouth cried out. More begging.

“No, _please,_ Ryan, please come back and…” A whimper as a hand pulled her head back. “Please kill me…”

“Let me untie her legs. How does this sound: just her wrists tied like they are now, and her ankles tied together?”

“Perfect.”

She went limp as her legs were untied and released from the painful rope bending them obscenely up and out. A rope tightened around her ankles and she sobbed against the floor.

Something bumped against her shoulder. A cane. Rolling her onto her back, on top of her hands. She wailed weakly.

“Now I want that voice muffled. There’s something about their muffled cries as I beat them…”

“Absolutely. You can use my tie again, or…”

“Perfect.”

Cloth was stuffed between her teeth and tied around her head. She sagged limply against the ground.

The first strike broke through the fog in a flash of fire across her stomach. She jerked and rolled to her side.

_Please, Ryan, god, Ryan… Please…_

Another strike, another line of fire. And another. And another.

She felt herself slipping, not out of her body, but out entirely. Blackness crept along the edges of her vision, even as she watched the beating from far away. Distantly heard her screams through the gag. Heard the laughter. Her eyes rolled back as they split her open, jerked her head back by her hair, laid her bare, beat her and beat her and _beat her_ until she felt blood rolling down her skin, heard the tortured roar of pain that ripped from her throat. Felt the prickles of unawareness creep into her head. Felt the ground suddenly very present against her as she went limp, not even jerking from the strikes anymore. She felt the world fall away. She met the blackness willingly.

_Please keep beating me until I’m dead._


	29. Chapter 29

Vera was alone. For the first time in eighteen days, she was completely alone.

She lay naked on the cold floor, aching deep in every place there is to ache. She could still smell the men on her, still feel where they had been inside her. It was all almost overshadowed by the pain drilling into her skin where they had split her open with the cane again, and again, and again. Her wrists were torn where she had pulled against the rope, and then where the men had dragged her by her wrists after she stopped fighting. She stopped fighting early.

What was the use? Ryan was dead. Through the faint smell of bleach and the stronger smell of sweat and cum. She could still smell Ryan’s blood. Or was it her own? She didn’t know anymore. She didn’t care. It was all his. It was all hers. It was both, together.

She was going to be in this cell until she died. She was going to be there until Joseph got too bored, or too angry, or too amused, and killed her. Sure, she could push him to do it sooner than he would have. She could push him into doing it tomorrow.

But Ryan. Ryan died for _her._ Ryan died, in the faint hope that she might live.

_There is no one else coming for me. It’s over. The plan is done._

_Ryan told people I’m here. Caleb knows. The mercenaries he hired know. Someone out in the world knows that I’m here, in this fucking dungeon. And someone might even_ care.

She had no way of knowing when, or even if, someone was coming for her. Considering how badly Ryan had wanted to get her out – and considering how badly that plan had ended – it went without saying that the tepid motivations of anyone else were doomed to fail. Ryan had been willing to give his life, and he failed. She could not reasonably expect anyone else to do more.

_But Caleb knows. Even if he doesn’t get me out, he might tell someone who does._

_Caleb also left he here to be tortured, raped, and killed, with full knowledge of what was happening to me. He left me here. He_ left _me._

_But Ryan didn’t. Ryan cared. Others might, too._

_Who am I fucking kidding?_

She had slid back into her body hours ago. Joseph hadn’t left any clothes for her. After he murdered Ryan he took her blood-soaked clothes with him. There was nothing that separated her from the cold floor. She barely had enough energy to shiver with, anymore. He still hadn’t fed her.

_What will he do tomorrow? What the fuck could he do that could be worse? How the fuck am I supposed to keep fighting him?_ It was possible, easier even, to fight when she knew Ryan would be there with her at night. She had the courage to fight when she knew she had someone on her side. Someone who wouldn’t hurt her. But now? Her entire world was Joseph and all the fucked-up things he wanted to do to her.

_I just want to die. I just want to end it. Ryan is dead and there’s no way I’m getting out now. It’s better to be dead. It’s better to stop hurting._ But… _Ryan died for me._ If there was any way, any way at all, that she could survive this, she owed it to him to stay alive for that. She owed it to _herself._

She had passed the threshold of what she thought she could endure days ago. And yet, she survived. Her mind hadn’t broken. She was still here. She wished she wasn’t, but she was still here.

No matter how she tried to think of it, no matter how she warped her mind around the new reality of her life, Ryan’s murder splintered her mind into numbness. Nothing was as painful. Nothing else mattered as much. Nothing else could be reasoned away.

Everything else was so small compared to that. The pain and violation of her body, the nakedness, the cold, it was all something she’d done before. It lived in her mind in a place she couldn’t touch, not without risking annihilation. Every moment was slightly delayed, dragging after the moment before, as if she felt each moment several seconds after the time had passed. Remembering the moments. Passing it through the filters of her pain. The cane marks, the blood, the terrible tearing feeling inside her… all felt a moment too late. Hitting just off the mark.

Ryan’s death, though, was a knife in her heart every moment. It hurt to breathe, with the image of that in her mind. That wound throbbed in her mind with no relief.

_I can’t let him break me. I_ can’t _fucking let him win._ She didn’t know where the tendril of hope was coming from, or when it would end. She didn’t know if it was something Ryan was giving to her, even after his death. She just knew that her oblivion, her annihilation, would be worse than her death. _Let me die with something of me still left._

Her body drifted farther away the longer she lay there, back out to sea. The cold was a faraway thing; her limbs were wrapped in blissful numbness. She thought of his arms around her, how it felt when he held her close. How it felt to have him by her side for that last night, knowing they’d either be free or dead when the sun rose. _I would have preferred either. I was so fucking stupid for thinking I would escape._

_No._ She shoved the thought away.

She dragged her mind out of the fog enough to remember the sound of his voice, the way he looked at her like he would do anything for her. How it felt to be protected. She tried to infuse that feeling into her bones.

_As long as I remember Ryan, I remember what hope is. As long as I think of him, and think about the life I had, there’s a chance of me keeping myself and getting out alive. I don’t know how, yet. But I have to. I have to get out._

Asa. Her parents. The little tea shop that served the bubble tea she liked best. The park a long walk from her apartment. The smell of the city, the feel of the sidewalk under her feet. The feel of clothes on her skin, her gun at her hip. The feel of striking someone with all her strength. The feeling of fighting back.

The forced herself to imagine the feeling of swallowing without the collar pulled tight around her throat. Of standing up, running as far as she could until her lungs gave out. Swimming in the river on trips up into the foothills with her family. The feeling of that little puppy’s fur under her hand. _I’m going to have all that again. I’m going to, or I’m going to die here. I won’t disappear. I won’t break._ _I won’t let him take anything else from me. He has my body but he doesn’t have anything else. I’m me, under everything. Not ‘sweetheart.’ Not ‘plaything.’ I’m me._

Even as she lay on the floor, broken, shuddering around the knowledge of her brokenness, something wrapped around her limbs, protecting her. Fueling her. Exhausted in her soul, dizzy with hunger and thirst, aching and stinging everywhere there was to hurt, there was something in her that flickered under the crushing weight of her pain. Something that had always been there. That Ryan had carried, for a time. Something that was, somehow, stronger than the horror.

_I’ll be good. I’ll pretend. I’ll say the words. I’ll obey all your stupid fucking rules but I will never, never let you break me, fucker._

_I’ll never let you break me. Joseph._


	30. Chapter 30

When Joseph returned the next morning, Vera was ready. She shivered weakly, nearly delirious with cold, and pushed herself to her knees when the door opened. She didn’t look at Joseph when he walked in. Couldn’t. Couldn’t look at the man who had raped her in Ryan’s blood, raped her with another man whispering the worst things in the world in her ear. She couldn’t stand to look at the man who had murdered Ryan. Not yet. She just needed a moment.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I hope you’re ready to be good for me today.” Footsteps clicked dully on the floor. She bowed her head lower and kept her mouth shut.

A hand settled in her hair, and it took everything she had not to twist her head and try to bite his fingers off. “Better already. Vera, look at me.” Slowly, painfully, she raised her eyes to him. He grinned down at her, his eyes shining with a look of anticipation that made Vera’s stomach roil. His hand smoothed through her hair, tangled from the party. “Now, Vera, you’ve been very bad, haven’t you?”

She pressed her lips together as she stared up at him. Rage burned faintly in her chest. It was all she had energy for. Rage had already burned through her body so many times, she felt like nothing but a blackened husk inside. She didn’t speak.

Joseph grinned. “Vera _good,_ Vera. _Very_ good. Now.” He palmed her chin and lifted her face up to him as he looked down at her. “I hope our little party gave you time to reconsider what you’ve done. Now I want to hear it directly from you. I want to hear an apology for being so _bad._ You can speak.”

Revulsion burned like acid through her body. _I can’t. I can’t say it. I can’t apologize, not when Ryan’s blood is still soaked into the cement…_ She squeezed her eyes shut, momentarily wondering if she could die just from being poisoned by hatred. She set her jaw and stared up at Joseph.

“I’m sorry, Joseph,” she said through her teeth, “For conspiring with Ryan to escape.”

For a moment, a dark, vicious smile pulled at the corners of Joseph’s mouth, so vile and self-satisfied that it made Vera’s stomach heave. He lifted an eyebrow at her, forcing the corners of his mouth down. He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth.

“Now, Vera,” he purred, “Who is _Ryan?”_

_Oh, you motherfucker._

Her body moved without her control. Her wrists weren’t restrained; the only thing that held her to the floor was the chain locked to her collar. She reached for his face, hands curled into claws, nails broken and sharp from her time in this dungeon.

She clawed her nails down his face.

Joseph jumped back with a yelp, his hands flying up to protect his eyes.

She could have taken a lot of things as punishment. She _had_ taken a lot of things. Canings, beatings, the knife, the whip, the rapes, she could have taken it. She would have screamed or not, depending on _his wishes,_ all the while plotting another escape. One that would end in death, again, either hers or Joseph’s. She didn’t care.

But _this?_ She knew was his play was, and she was terrified.

“Vera,” Joseph said gently, from a safe distance away, “Answer me. Who is Ryan?”

Vera squeezed her eyes shut. _Ryan is my friend. My friend who contacted Caleb and paid mercenaries to get me out with his own fucking money and made a plan. My friend who hurt me, who took that burden to make you trust him so he could get close to me. My friend who tricked you, outsmarted you, who would have gotten me out if you hadn’t had someone else helping you. My friend, who would still be alive if he had just let you kill me. My friend, who died for me._

She groaned, despite herself. _Holding onto myself is hard enough. I will hold onto Ryan, too, though. I’ll do that, for him._ “Ryan is my friend. The night guard who planned to help me escape.”

Joseph tilted his head. “I never had a night guard, sweetheart.”

Vera sagged forward. She couldn’t argue with him. What was the point? _Don’t argue with crazy people._ Wasn’t there a quote like that somewhere? She didn’t know. So much of her life before was gone, already.

Joseph took a step forward, this time unable to control the smile twisting his face. “Vera, did you… did you _imagine_ a night guard?”

Vera laughed, high in her throat, a near-hysterical sound that filled the room. “Yeah, Joseph. I sure did. I imagined someone who spoke to you regularly. So I guess that means you imagined him, too, right? Or am I also imagining you? _That_ would be a trick—”

Joseph descended on her and smashed his fist against the side of her head. She crumpled to the floor, stunned, still laughing weakly.

_“RULES, VERA,”_ Joseph bellowed.

Vera couldn’t stop laughing. She didn’t want to. “Stick your rules up your ass, Joey,” she shrieked at him between peals of laughter.

_“SHUT UP!”_ Joseph screamed at her. _“SAY YOUR FUCKING RULES!”_

“You know, I think you’ve got some serious mommy issues,” Vera giggled. “Cuz every time I won’t stop talking, you get, like, _real mad.”_

His hand smashed across her face. _“SHUT UP!”_

“Or what?” Vera shot back, feeling for one crazy moment like she was in high-school again, taunting some asshole who wouldn’t leave her alone. “You have nothing fucking left, Jo-Bo. The only thing I had left was my _friend.”_ Tears poured down her face as she laughed. “And you took him away. So, seriously, _SHUT UP OR WHAT, MOTHERFUCKER?”_

She didn’t even see the whip in his hands before it cracked against her arm. She screamed, an instinct, and one she didn’t care to subdue.

_“SHUT UP!”_ Joey screamed at her. _“SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING PLAYTHING!”_

Vera cackled as the whip bit into her skin again. _“You fucked up!”_ she screamed. _“You took the one thing that kept me sane!”_

Joseph stopped screaming. He stopped giving orders. He just used the whip.

Over and over on her naked skin, on her back, on her legs, on her arms. Silent. Over and over, with no relief, no time for the pain to cool. Vera disappeared inside herself, just like she had done at the party. It was getting easier, like the path was worn.

She could feel blood rolling down her body, down her sides. She curled into herself, protecting her head, protecting her stomach, and took it. Laid there, and took it.

_He’s not breaking me. He’s scared because he knows he can’t._

Again, a lash. Again, a lash.

_Ryan was real. Ryan was real. Ryan was real._ She could picture him, light hair and clear blue eyes and full lips, she could picture his hands, feel how they felt on her skin. When they hurt, and when they helped. _That was Ryan. I remember everything, I remember who he is. I will always remember him._

Again, a lash. Again, a lash.

Her body went numb. She could feel each strike, but it seemed to bypass her completely, be shunted into the place where the pain was kept, way deep down, where she wouldn’t have to touch it. If she went near it, she ached. If she went into it, she would be destroyed.

Again, a lash. Again, a lash.

_Ryan was real. He was real. He was in this cell with me, talking to me, holding me, cutting and raping me when he had to, but he was real. I remember how it felt for him to touch me. I remember the sound of his voice._

_You will never take that away from me. There is nothing you can do, nothing, that can take him from me._

She laid still under the beating, bleeding, drifting. She didn’t realize it when he was done.


	31. Chapter 31

After a time, after an _eternity,_ she felt a hand in her hair. She moaned, her voice weak and raw from screaming. She knew, distantly, that she was bleeding. She could feel it rolling down her skin, warming her along the thin red paths, before it cooled, sticky and smelling of iron and copper.

_Blood has such a distinctive smell. I learned that—_ Where had she learned that? As part of her life before, she knew. What was her life before?

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

She didn’t realize they were closed. She rooted around in her mind for the muscles that controlled her eyes. Found them. Pried her eyelids open.

The room spun sickeningly around her and she shuddered.

“Good girl. See? That was all you needed to be good for me.”

_I’ll never be good for you. I’ll pretend, but I’ll keep myself. I’ll stay in my own head. You can’t ever kick me out of there._

“Say your rules for me, Vera.”

_What the hell, why not?_

“Ne—” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and tried again. “N-never speak without, without permission. Never…” She choked on a sob as his hand tightened in her hair, forcing her to look at him. At Ryan’s murderer. “Never sleep or eat unless you, you let me. Never s-scream without permission. Never—” She cried out as he jerked her head back, his finger tracing a line just above the collar. “I’m sorry, I… Take all punishments without complaint. Never take off, off the, the collar.” Tears formed in her eyes as his hand tightened around her hair.

“You almost forgot one, sweetheart.”

“N-no, I, I didn’t, I’m sorry, Joseph, I’m _sorry_ …”

Joseph’s lip curled. “You are not allowed to call me Joseph.”

“What am I supposed to call you?” she breathed. _What do I call you to make you leave me alone?_

“You will call me ‘sir’, or you will not address me at all. Do I make myself clear?”

_Sure. Whatever. ‘Sir.’ At least you don’t want me to call you ‘daddy’, you sick fuck._

“Yes sir.”

The hand loosened in her hair. “Good. Very good, sweetheart. Are you ready to be good for me?”

She nodded weakly.

His lips curled into a smile. “Now. Who is Ryan?”

Her eyes fell shut. _Ryan is my friend. Ryan is—_

Her thought was cut off as Joseph _crack_ ed the cane against her arm. She jerked, a cry of pain bursting from her throat.

“Vera. Who is Ryan?”

_Ryan is my—_

_Crack._

She groaned, a new slash of broken skin opening up on her back. _No…_

“Who is Ryan?”

_Ryan—_

_Crack._

She whimpered brokenly. “S-stop—”

_Crack._

“Who is Ryan?”

_Ryan—_

_Crack._

“Vera. Answer me.”

_Crack._

“P-please—”

_Crack._

“Tell me who Ryan is.”

_Crack._

_“No—”_

_Crack._

“Who is he?”

_Crack._

_“STOP!”_

_Crack._

“I’ll stop when you tell me who Ryan is.”

_Crack._

“My… my _friend_ —”

_Crack._

“Wrong. That’s wrong, Vera. Tell me who he is.”

_Crack._

“Y-your… night guard… please…”

_Crack._

“I never had a night guard, Vera. Tell me who Ryan is. Did you imagine him?”

_Crack._

_“NO!”_

_Crack._

“There has never been anyone here but me.”

_Crack._

“Tell me who Ryan is.”

_Crack._

“Tell me you imagined him.”

_Crack._

“I’ll keep doing this until you’re unconscious, Vera.”

_Crack._

“And then I’ll keep going until you’re dead.”

_Crack._

Screams were coming from her that didn’t sound human.

_Crack._

_If I don’t say it, he’s going to kill me._

_Crack._

Her skin split and bled, open and raw.

_Crack._

“Tell me who Ryan is.”

_Crack._

_“I imagined him!”_

She braced herself for another strike, covering her head with her hands. Waited for the beating to continue until she was dead, like he promised. She shivered, naked, bleeding, broken, half-terrified, half-hoping he would do it. Half-hoping he would beat her to death, and end it. She dared to look up at him as he stood over her, the cane held tight in his hand, poised to strike her again. His face twisted into a smile.

“Say it again.”

Vera sobbed. She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t. She couldn’t say Ryan was someone she imagined, someone who never existed. She couldn’t say it. His blood stained the floor still. She tried to pull his face into the forefront of her mind, to see him clearly, as clearly as she saw Joseph. Light hair. Clear blue eyes. His hands.

She tried to feel his hands on her. It was the realest thing she felt, for _weeks_ in this fucking cellar. She tried to remember how it felt for him to hold her, to keep her warm and safe. For just a few hours every night, she was warm and safe. With him.

She tried to remember. She tried. But she couldn’t feel his hands over the screaming agony of the beating. She couldn’t remember how it felt to be held. To be warm. She’d been lying naked and cold on the floor for over 24 hours now. There wasn’t a time in her life when she had ever been warm. The cold was in her bones now, always would be.

Joseph grunted with the force of his next blow.

Her mouth fell open and she screamed, her body twisting the sound as she cringed against the floor. She shivered as more blood ran down her back.

“Say it, Vera. Say you imagined him.”

“ _No,_ ” she sobbed. “Please… don’t… please don’t make me say it. I’ll be, I’ll be good, I _swear,_ please don’t make me say it, _please…”_

“Oh, Vera. Such a bad girl. I’ll just have to make you good again.”

_“NO!”_ she wailed as he pushed her onto her back, setting the cane on the floor beside her.

He reached for his belt buckle.

“ _NO!_ I imagined him! I did! I made him up! I imagined Ryan and I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I tried to escape, no no no no _no_ …”

Joseph paused. His smile grew, shaped his face into a terrifying mask of smugness and pleasure. “Say it again.”

“I imagined Ryan. Please. _Please_ don’t rape me again, _please…_ ” She pressed her hands to her face and sobbed. _Ryan wouldn’t want me to be raped again. Ryan would understand._ Please _let Ryan understand._

Joseph’s hand left his belt buckle. Vera keened out a cry of relief and rolled to her side, huddling into herself, burning with terror and agony and _shame_ that swept everything else away for a moment. _I let him make me say it. I betrayed Ryan. I betrayed my friend._

“Say it again.”

Vera wilted against the ground, her body going slack. All the fight slithered out of her, leaving her cold and trembling. _I don’t want to hurt. I’ll do anything to not hurt._

“I…” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I imagined Ryan. I imagined my friend.”

“And there is no escape. Say it.”

“There is no escape.”

“Say it again.”

_Can you die of shame?_ Her heart squeezed in her chest, each beat sending bitter despair running through her blood again and again.

“There is no escape. I’m sorry I tried.”

Joseph crouched next to her, his hand tightening in her hair again. “Good girl. Very good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She shuddered and closed her eyes. _Ryan was real. Ryan was my friend. I betrayed my friend, but he was real._

“Let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll even let you earn your clothes.” He stood and reached for the alcohol and the cloth. He wet the cloth down and swiped it over the cane, cleaning it of her blood. Cleaned until there was no evidence it had ever been there at all. The evidence was dripping down her skin, making puddles around her.

He reached for another rag and grabbed the bottle of alcohol as he approached her. She whimpered and pressed her cheek into the cement.

“What, sweetheart, don’t you want to be clean? We’ve done some hard work today. Do you want an infection?”

_Yes. If an infection would kill me, I want that._

His hand fisted in her hair. _“Answer me,”_ he hissed.

She shook her head weakly against the floor.

“Good.” He lowered himself to the ground beside her. She flinched as his fingers stroked through her hair, ran gently along her face. He never struck her face with the cane. She vaguely wondered if that was because he liked her _pretty._

Joseph poured some alcohol out over a fresh rag. She whimpered as the sharp smell stung her nose.

“Vera. I want you to repeat after me.” He poised the rag over her back, over the lines and lines and lines he’d made with the cane. Some open and bleeding, some just angry, raised welts that would later bruise. She whined high in her throat, her flesh already shuddering in anticipation of the pain.

Joseph grinned. “Ryan never existed.”

He pressed the rag to her broken skin.

She cringed away and cried out, fire lancing through her, burning away her thoughts, her sanity. Suddenly, the reasons for not doing what Joseph asked seemed so… small. Nonexistent.

Just like Ryan had to be.

_“Ryan never existed,”_ she howled as she writhed on the floor.

“Very good, Vera. You imagined him.”

“I imagined him,” she sobbed bitterly, as he pressed the rag to another stripe.

“You are being punished because you tried to escape, and there is no escape.”

“I— _ah!_ ” She twisted against the ground, trying to get away from the agony. His hand closed around her hair and he dragged her closer.

“Be good, Vera. Repeat what I just said. You are being punished because you tried to escape, and there is no escape.”

“No,” Vera sobbed. She cried out as his hand tightened. “I am being, being—” She stopped as a moan tore through her throat. “I am… being… punished, because…” She swallowed hard. “Because I tried to escape, and, and…” She shook her head. “There is no escape.”

“That’s correct. Good.”

Joseph dragged her onto her belly and straddled her hips, pinning her to the floor. She screamed as her bare hipbones ground into the cement. She bucked and tried to throw Joseph off. His hand curled around the collar and shoved her face against the floor. She let out a strangled cry.

“Hold still. Don’t _fucking_ pull away from me when I’m making you good.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

His hand didn’t let up on the collar. He pressed the rag against her back. A patch of skin crossed back and forth with open wounds lit up with fire. She shrieked and twisted under his weight.

“Now. You will never call me Joseph again. You will forget that name. You will call me ‘sir’ and nothing else. Say it.”

She wailed, her face pressed hard into the cement. “I’ll never call you Joseph again. I’ll forget that name. I’ll only call you ‘sir’.”

The rag moved and drew another line of fire across her back. The smell of alcohol and blood was making her dizzy. She weakly threw an elbow back to try and dislodge his hands.

He jerked and slammed her head against the floor. _“Bad girl, Vera,”_ he snarled. _“Bad girl.”_ His weight shifted and he reached for something next to him. Vera shuddered and pressed her hands against the floor.

She felt the splash of something cool on her back. Then all the stripes lit up at once.

She _screamed._ Her throat felt raw, like something would snap if she couldn’t stop screaming. She thrashed under him, her hands scrambling against the floor, pushing the pain away, pushing away _consciousness,_ as she begged her mind to let her slip away.

The pain was too bright. She was pinned down in her own mind.

Over all of it, over the raging agony of the alcohol in all her wounds at once, she felt a hand in her hair again, and his lips at her ear. “Vera. Tell me everything I just told you. Tell me the _truth._ ”

_“I imagined Ryan!”_ she screamed. _“I imagined him! He never existed! I’m being punished for trying to escape, there is no escape, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, no no no no no NO!”_

“And what else?”

_“I’ll forget your name, I’ll only call you sir, there is no escape, RYAN NEVER EXISTED, PLEASE!”_

“Good,” he purred in her ear. “Good. You’re being very good for me, and your wounds are getting clean. Such a good _girl,_ Vera. So good for me.”

She sobbed, her tears making a small puddle on the floor, much smaller than the puddles of her blood.

“Good. Now.” She felt his weight lift away from her and she groaned with relief, rolling to the side, rubbing hard at the crushed skin of her hips where she’d been pressed into the cement under his weight. It was a small reprieve from the pain. She could breathe.

She lost track of where he was behind her. She didn’t care. She just focused on the things that didn’t hurt: the cool of the cement, the air in her lungs… there wasn’t much else that wasn’t in pain. Not much else that wasn’t in agony.

She felt his fingers wrap around one wrist, felt the cool _click_ of the cuffs. He pulled her other hand behind her and cuffed it there. She moaned as he walked back around to her front.

“Now, Vera,” he said, his voice pitched in a soothing tone. “Are you ready to earn your clothes?”

_What the fuck do I have to do to earn those?_ What did it matter? She had no dignity left. Ryan was her only lifeline to sanity, and she had betrayed him. There was nothing else. There was nothing else but the pain, and the way to relieve it: being _good._

“Vera…” His voice carried a low threat.

She nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m ready,” she whispered.

“Excellent.” His hand closed around her hair and he dragged her up onto her knees. Her wrists twisted against the cuffs as she tried to steady herself: on her knees, chained to the floor by her collar, cuffed. Helpless.

Joseph stepped directly in front of her. His hands went to his belt buckle again.

She groaned, bile already creeping up her throat at the thought of his dick in her mouth again. Her head dropped forward, her hair coming to cover her face on the sides. His fingers stroked through it and raised her head again. He was already hard, inches from her face.

“Be good for me, Vera,” he crooned, and slowly guided her forward.


	32. Touch starved

“Ryan never existed.”

“Very good, Vera.”

Joseph’s fingers moved slowly through Vera’s hair as he sat against the wall of her cell, her head in his lap. She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut against the touch, against the first good thing she had felt in over a week. At the soft, tingling pleasure than moved through her scalp and down her neck as his fingers moved back and forth through her hair.

“You’re being so good for me, my sweet girl,” Joseph crooned, and Vera’s forehead relaxed a little. “You don’t have to be hurting all the time, sweetheart. You only have to be hurting when you’re bad, or when I need to discipline you.” His fingers trailed over the angle of her jaw, to her mouth, and slowly pushed past her lips.

Vera numbly opened her mouth wider and let him press the pads of his fingers against her tongue.

“Be good, Vera,” Joseph said softly. She closed her mouth and began to suck against his fingers. “Good,” Joseph sighed, his other hand still smoothing through her hair. It was clean, after he’d bathed her again yesterday. She had let him do it. He hadn’t even had to chain her down.

She was resting now, her mind drifting further and further away from her body as she sucked idly at Joseph’s fingers. She would keep thinking of escape when she’d recovered. When she’d had time to process Ryan’s death. When she’d slept long enough that she didn’t get dizzy every time she stood. She would plan her escape then.

She kept telling herself that. For now, her body existed in this cell, waiting for her mind to decide to try to save it.

“Keep telling me the truth.”

Vera drew in a slow breath through her nose, her mouth still around Joseph’s fingers. He didn’t pull them out. “I imagined Ryan,” she said thickly past his fingers. The words were garbled. “You never had a nightguard. I tried to escape and I failed because escape is impossible. I must never think of it again. And I am not allowed to know your name. I call you sir or nothing at all.”

“Good,” Joseph purred. “Oh, my good girl. You’re finally starting to be good for me.” He pushed his fingers further into Vera’s mouth and she gagged, but didn’t pull away. “I was so worried after your little mishap.” Vera’s throat strained and her eyes streamed with tears, but she didn’t pull away. “I was worried you were broken, that you couldn’t be good for me anymore. But you are doing…” He jabbed his fingers even further into her mouth once, hitting the back of her throat, and pulled them out. “… _so well,_ sweetheart.”

“Thank you sir,” she whispered, her throat still spasming.

Joseph sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, his hand still moving slowly through her hair.

_I’ll think of getting away once I have the energy. I’ll think about it once I can think without… without_ Ryan _… going through my head. I’ll think about it soon. I’ll think about it tomorrow. But until then, please, please god let me rest. I’ll pretend to be good for him. I don’t care. I’ll do it. Just please let me not hurt for one goddamned day._

Joseph pulled his hand away from Vera’s hair. Before she could stop herself, before she even processed that she had done it, a low moan left her throat at the absence of the touch. _Please. It’s the first good thing I’ve felt since… Ryan… died. Please. No._

Joseph chuckled softly. “Oh. Sweetheart, did you _like_ that? Do you like it when I’m touching you softly like that?”

Vera’s face burned. Her eyes pricked with shameful tears. _It’s not fucked up if I like feeling good. It’s not fucked up if I let him make me feel good after he’s tortured me for…_ Her head swam. How long had she been here? At least three weeks. More than that, for sure. Had it been four? Had it been an entire month in this cell?

She was nodding before she’d given her body permission to do it. _I do like it. Please. Please don’t stop._

Joseph chuckled, a low rumble moving through his chest. “Hm. What _else_ do you like, sweetheart?”

Her face crumpled. She muffled a sob as she turned her face into his thigh, a shudder rolling over her shoulders. _I made a mistake. I told him I liked something. This is when he tortures me again._

His hand went gently to her chin and he pulled her face away from his leg, looking down at her with a saccharine grin on his face. “We can do things that you like, sweetheart. You’ve been so good for me. Come here. Show me what you like.”

Tears blurred her vision and rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them. He brushed them away with his thumbs, still pulling her head upright. Her neck began to ache as it twisted. With resignation, with despair, she pushed herself upright onto her hands and knees. He guided her closer, dragging her on top of him. His hands went to her thighs and he pulled her so she was forced to straddle his hips where he sat against the wall. The chain on her collar clanked as she moved.

“There,” Joseph crooned as she settled over him. She could feel his erection pressing up against her through his pants and she shivered. “There you go, Vera. Now.” His hands slipped under the hem of her shirt and crept up her back, gently, softly. Against her will, she felt herself relaxing into the touch as his fingers skimmed the healing cane and lash marks. Felt her body reacting. He grinned wider.

Joseph slipped his hands out of Vera’s shirt and brought them to her face. “Do you like this, Vera?” His fingertips trailed down her neck, and even the light touch made the bruises there ache. She whimpered. “Oh, you _do._ Well. If you want to me give you these nice touches, kiss me. Otherwise we can do something else. I haven’t made you kneel as I whip you in a while. We could do that instead.”

Vera moaned with something just shy of agony. Her head dropped onto his shoulder as she slumped forward. _I can’t take more pain. I need to rest. Just give me time to rest so I can plan another escape. Please._ Her stomach roiled as he imagined kissing him _willingly,_ without a knife at her throat, without his hand in her hair. Despair clutched at her heart, dragged her towards the ground. _What if I just laid down and died? What then?_ Somehow, she doubted he would let her get that far. No, there would still be plenty of time to hurt her before then.

Tears dripped off her face onto his shoulder. _I’m too weak to take another whipping now. I’ll be weak enough for this. I’ll be weak now so I can be strong later._ She placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him.

He moaned loudly as her lips touched his, and immediately opened his mouth. She flinched as he pressed his tongue into her mouth, searching for hers, leaning forward, his arms wrapping around her waist. She swallowed bile and let him deeper into her mouth.

His hands moved over her as she kissed him, stroking her thighs, brushing back her hair, trailing down her stomach until his thumb rested an inch above her clit. She whined softly as he brushed his thumb back and forth at the front of her pelvis, willed herself to keep kissing him. _I can do this. I can take this, over the whip._

“I made you come when I first bathed you,” Joseph murmured against her lips. “I bet I can do it again.”

“No,” Vera whimpered. Her body convulsed forward against his in terror and disgust. “Please.”

“Be good Vera.” His hands tightened on her in the slightest hint of a threat. “I thought you liked this.”

Vera sobbed, and pulled Joseph’s mouth hard against hers.

“Mmm.” Joseph’s hands tangled in Vera’s hair, pulling her head back, baring her throat to his lips. He kissed along the edge of the collar, dragging his teeth along the bruised skin and laughing at her shiver. “Be good for me.” One hand went to her waist. He guided her to roll her hips against his and moaned as she did it.

_I can do this. I_ have _to do this. I can’t take more pain. Is it so bad if he makes me feel good?_

Joseph’s thumb moved over her clit and pressed gently. She gasped and jerked against his hips, the pleasure piercing through her, sharp as any pain. Her voice broke as she moaned.

Joseph bit down gently on her shoulder as he forced her to rut against him. “Tell me the truth, Vera. Do you like this?”

She whimpered, tears forming in her eyes and rolling into her hair as she tilted her head back. Staring at a spot halfway up the wall. Wanting to die rather than be here. _“Yes,”_ she whispered.

Joseph chuckled. “Good. Let me make you come again. That was particularly lovely, watching you fight it, knowing you wanted it…”

Vera let out a piteous sob as Joseph pressed her harder down against his cock. He slipped his hand into her pants, sliding his fingers down her pelvis until he reached her clit. She stifled a moan as he pressed his finger into her.

“I’m going to fuck you, Vera,” Joseph sighed. “And I’m going to make you come. And I know you want it. I can _feel_ how much you want it.”

_No no no no no._ Vera shook her head and pushed against his chest.

“Take off your pants.”

“No,” she sobbed. “N-no…”

A sigh. “The whip, then.”

_“No!”_ Vera’s cry echoed through the room. “No no no _please,_ I’ll do it, please don’t…”

“Then take off your _fucking_ pants,” Joseph growled.

Vera’s hands shook as they moved to her waistband. She shuddered as she eased her pants down her hips, getting up on one knee to pull them off one leg, then the other. She keened softly as she lowered herself again over Joseph’s lap.

“Pull me out, sweetheart.” She cringed. “Oh, don’t look like that, I _felt_ how wet you are. I’ve been watching you react to my touch.” Joseph trailed one finger from Vera’s shoulder, down her arm. Over the cuts Ryan had made with the knife. A pit opened up inside Vera that threatened to swallow her whole. _Please. Let me just slip away._

_If I don’t do this, it’s something worse. It’s something that hurts._

Her hands fumbled at his belt. She shuddered as she unbuckled it, and then found the button at the top of his pants. She unbuttoned his pants and eased down his zipper. He heaved an indecent sigh as she gently pulled out his cock.

“Come here, Vera. Let me make you feel good. You’ve been so good for me today. Let me do something you like.” Joseph closed his hands around her hips, lingering for a moment on the knife marks Martin – she thought it was Martin? – had made at the first party. They were almost healed by now.

He lifted her gently over him. She shivered and sobbed weakly as he eased her down slowly onto him.

A cry left her mouth as he filled her up that made her wither inside. She tried to tell herself it hurt, and it _did._ At this point she couldn’t even remember how many times Joseph had raped her in this cell. She felt the bruises as she slid down his length, whimpered at the pain as he settled her flush against his hips. She tried to tell herself that was all she could feel.

He moved his thumb in circles around her clit again and she begged her mind for the lie.

Gently, he moved her hips against his, massaging her clit, grinning as he pried each sound of pleasure from her lips. She braced her hands against the wall, loathe to touch him. She tried to focus on the rough cold cement under her hands, how it felt against her fingers. She tried to escape the feeling of pleasure that pooled in her, tried to ignore the swelling glow of an orgasm he was coaxing out of her.

With one hand still busy at her clit, he reached up for her face. She kept moving her hips without him forcing her. He pulled her lips against his for a deep kiss.

She fractured a little. She could taste him on her tongue, feel him moving inside her, feel his hand cupping her cheek so tenderly she wanted to tear the hand from his wrist. He was capable of _this_. Of pleasure. Of tenderness. And he chose to torture her and beat her and brutally rape her _anyway_. Her body went rigid, seconds from plunging her into insanity with the feel of his hands on her, so gently she wanted _more._

She did the only thing she could think to do.

She pretended it was Ryan.

She closed her eyes, tried to recall to her mind how he smelled. How he _felt._ She opened her mouth to the kiss and realized with a jolt that Ryan had never once kissed her. He’d fucked her against the wall and on the floor, he’d tortured her, cut her, beat her, but he had never once kissed her.

He left her that freedom, at least.

She squeezed her eyes shut harder, pretended the dark brown hair she was running her fingers through was blonde. Pretended the eyes she could feel burning on her skin were a clear blue, instead of the color of an ocean in a storm. Pretended the hands on her were _Ryan’s,_ pretended the place where Joseph was touching her was being touched only by Ryan. It was all she could do to keep from screaming. It was all she could do to stay sane.

She adjusted her weight and ground down onto him, demanding the pleasure rising in her to rise _harder,_ to rise _faster._ She wanted this over with. She wanted this done.

She wanted to stop making love to Ryan. She wanted to stop pulling his mouth hard against hers, stop rolling her hips against his, wanted the tortured, ecstatic _moans_ that ripped through her one right after the other to _stop._ She wanted to stop making love to Ryan, so she hurried with fucking Joseph as hard as she could.

Joseph was moaning under her, too. His voice kept pulling her away from Ryan, pulling her down harder into the cell where Ryan had died, where she was fucking his murderer. Every gasp, every groan, every fucking _breath_ reminded her of what she was doing. Of what she was.

Her skin broke out into a sweat as she fucked him harder, panting against his shoulder. Joseph’s hand fisted in her hair and he dragged her ear against his mouth.

“Tell me the truth, Vera. Tell me all the things you know are true that we learned this week.”

_If I’m going to die, please, please, let it be now._

“Ryan never existed,” she mumbled, riding Joseph hard. “You never had a nightguard. I imagined him.”

_I’m making love to Ryan._

“There is no escape. I was being punished because I tried.”

_Ryan almost got me out. There might still be people on the outside who care and would be willing to help me._

“I am not allowed to know your name. I will address you as ‘sir’ or not at all.”

_Your name is Joseph and I hate you._

“Good, Vera,” Joseph moaned. “Again.”

Tears mixed with the sweat on Vera’s face.

“Ryan never existed.”

_I am making love to Ryan._

“I imagined him.”

_I’m imagining making love to him because I’ll go insane if I think about fucking you like this._

“You never had a nightguard.”

_I’m alone at night now, and that’s almost worse than when you’re here._

“There is no escape.”

_I almost escaped._

“I was being punished because I tried.”

_I am going to try again._

“I am not allowed to know your name.”

_Your name is Joseph._

“I will call you ‘sir’ or nothing at all.”

_You are ‘motherfucker’, you are ‘rapist’, you are ‘sadist fucking prick’, and I’m going to kill you one day._

Joseph whined against her cheek, both hands moving to her hips to pull her down onto him harder.

“Very good, Vera,” he murmured, his voice jolting each time she fell onto him. “You’re my good girl. Come for me, Vera.”

She didn’t want to. She tried to push it away.

She disintegrated into pleasure.

She cried out as she crumpled against his chest, the wave breaking over her, leaving nothing but emptiness behind it. She wailed into his shirt, all the strength rushing out of her.

His hands moved her hips again. “Oh, you’re not done, Vera,” Joseph grumbled. “Be good for me.” He forced her down onto his cock again, and she whimpered.

Every time he thrust himself into her, she felt the shocks all the way up through her body. He kept hitting her in just that spot, just the spot that forced the pleasure through her body again, falling short and clattering against the hard horror of Ryan’s death. His fingers tightened on her hips until they bruised, and he groaned, pulling her down hard one more time as he emptied himself into her.

She slumped against him again, trembling, beyond misery. She stiffened as he moved his lips to her ear again.

“Remember this, Vera,” he rasped. “This is what happens when you’re good. We do something you want. Something that feels good. This is what happens when you remember the truth. Next time you forget it you’re going straight to your knees, straight to the whip.”

_If I’m going to die, please, please, let it be now._


	33. Chapter 33

When Joseph opened the door to her cell the next day, she could tell something was different.

His lips were pulled wide into a grin that lit up his eyes a little too much. A chill ran down her spine as she pushed herself up onto her knees, the chain on her collar scraping against the ground as she moved. She moved without thinking.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Joseph said softly, walking straight to the wall. “I hope you enjoyed your rest yesterday. Today, we need to keep working on making you good.”

Her stomach dropped. _Why? I didn’t_ do _anything. I haven’t done a_ fucking thing. She pressed her lips together, keeping the words locked inside. He would hurt her worse if she spoke.

That was all it took to keep her quiet anymore.

_I’m a fucking coward._

He turned and grinned at her as he took the whip down off the wall. She sagged forward, despair running through her and hardening like cooling metal. _I… I can’t…_

“Very good, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I thought for sure you would protest. But you’re being so _good._ I’ll keep it in mind.”

_But you’re still going to hurt me._

Joseph ran his hand slowly from the handle of the whip to the end as he regarded her. There was something about his movements that was… wrong. Twitchy. Unhinged, almost. _He had an entire day to rest, too._

“Today I’m going to teach you what happens if you even _think_ about the things that make you bad. You’ve been here for four weeks today.” Her chest ached. _I thought I would be gone by now. I never, ever thought I would be here, alive still._

He tilted his head at her. “And yet the mishap last week has… _delayed_ your progress. Imagine how good you could be for me if it had never happened. I have to make you good, so you never even _think_ about being bad like that again.”

She felt tears burning in her eyes, but they didn’t matter. They ran down her cheeks, but they were meaningless. Everything was meaningless in here. Her pain was all there was, with only short moments of reprieve. The fact that she had had a whole day of comfort yesterday was in itself remarkable.

_He raped me yesterday and told me I wanted it._

_But he wasn’t hurting me. He made me feel good. It’s the only thing I can be grateful for anymore._

Joseph walked slowly behind Vera, the first thing he’d done since he arrived that wasn’t driven with an almost manic intensity. She shuddered at the sound of his shoes clicking on the cement floor.

“Take off your shirt, Vera.”

She whimpered. He wasn’t even going to do it over her clothes.

Her hands moved to the hem of her shirt and she pulled it off over her collar. She moved it down the chain trailing from her neck until it rested on the floor in front of her. She felt a sudden, inexplicable wave of guilt as she looked down at the tattered pile. _It’s trapped on this chain, too. It can’t escape, either._ A shiver rippled over her at the feeling of the cold air on her exposed skin.

“Vera,” Joseph said, a smile in his voice. “Say my name.”

Vera’s throat constricted in terror. _He’s taking my thoughts now. It’s all of me I fucking have left._ She sagged forward, a sob clutching her chest. _No. Please. Let me keep my fucking thoughts. You’ve taken everything else._

_“Vera.”_

She jolted as his voice exploded through the cell. She whimpered, pressing her lips together, trying desperately to keep the sobs in. To keep the words in.

A step behind her. Then another, closer. A hand in her hair. “Vera…” She squeezed her eyes shut as he pulled her head back. “Say my name. Or I’ll make you good. And I won’t be gentle, like yesterday.”

A sob punched out of her chest, cutting through the cell, rising to a wail. _Is this better? He takes my thoughts, or he rapes me. Which is better? Which is fucking better?_

She blinked her eyes open, two tears running down the sides of her face as she looked up at him. He was staring down at her with a look of poisonous glee. Her stomach lurched in revulsion.

“I…” Her throat bobbed against the collar as she swallowed. “I’ll s-say it.”

“Good.” He released her head and took a step back. She crumpled forward, exposing her back even more to the whip, she knew. She couldn’t push herself upright under the weight of her anguish.

_I’m a fucking coward. I’d rather let him break my fucking brain than let him rape me again._

_I can’t do it again. Not now. I can’t._

“Say my name, Vera.”

She opened her eyes and stared at the floor. Her lips trembled. “J-Joseph,” she whispered.

_Crack._

Her throat went raw with her scream.

She knew it was coming. Her muscles strained against it, tried to brace against the pain. Her fingernails dug into her thighs.

“Say my name.”

“Joseph.”

_Crack._

She sobbed, folding forward at the waist. Neither lash had broken her skin, but the ache went deep, the welts rising over the marks from the whip and the cane that were already there, that would never go away.

“Vera, you’re going to keep saying my name until I am satisfied. If you stop at any point, I will make you good, and I will not give you the opportunity to beg your way out of it. Do you understand?”

What was there to understand? It was misery. It was defeat.

How could she think of escape when pain occupied every corner of her mind?

She nodded. Tears rolled down her face. “Joseph.”

_Crack._

She gagged against the pain. It was in her body, filling her up, overtaking every other thought. There was nothing but pain. Nothing but despair.

“Joseph.”

_Crack._

She felt the lash split her skin that time, felt the blood start to ooze down her back. She was grateful. The blood was warm.

“Joseph.”

_Crack._

Her body jerked against the lash. She pressed her face into her hands, breathing hard, like she was running.

_If only I could fucking run._

“Joseph.”

_Crack._

_Okay okay okay I won’t fucking call you Joseph anymore. I won’t even fucking think it. Would that make you happy? Jesus fucking Christ._

“Joseph.”

_Crack._

She moaned, the pain creeping into her bones, making her feel sick. _It’s not fucking worth it. It’s not fucking worth it to hear his fucking name. It’s not fucking worth it to know it._

_“J-Joseph.”_ Her throat strained around the word.

_Crack._

She sobbed. “I, I won’t say it again, please, I won’t fucking—”

_Crack._

_“Rules, Vera.”_

She gasped. If the rules kept her safe, they kept her safe. “Never speak without permission. Never eat or sleep unless you let me. Never scream unless you let me. Take all punishments without complaint. Never take off the collar.” The words rushed out of her as fast as she could say them. The words made her good, and if being good spared her pain, then what-the-fuck-ever, she would do it.

“Say my name, Vera.”

Her voice shook. Her mind flinched around the word. _Just like he wants._ “Joseph.”

_Crack._

She screamed, bending forward so far her forehead pressed against the cool floor. She was breathing too quickly. She was getting dizzy. _If I don’t continue, he’ll rape me. I don’t fucking know when he’ll stop._

_“Joseph,”_ she gasped.

_Crack._

She felt around inside her mind for the blanket of nothingness that was so close on hand lately. So ready to cover her, drag her down inside herself where he couldn’t reach her. Where he could hurt her body without her mind having to feel it, at least until he was finished. She couldn’t find it. She whimpered, terrified. _It must not be bad enough yet._

_“Joseph.”_

_Crack._

Her voice was weak as she cried out.

“Now, Vera,” he purred. “Say, ‘Ryan existed. I didn’t imagine him.’”

_No._ Not her friend. Not her Ryan. He – Joseph, she couldn’t bring herself to think it without flinching – could take his own name away from her. He could take that modicum of control he had over her. That was fine. She could live without that. But Ryan? Ryan, her friend who gave up his life in the _hope_ that she could get away? Ryan, who had risked everything, given everything, and still had ended up at the bottom of a river or in a shallow fucking grave somewhere, for the crime of wanting to save her? The man standing behind her with the whip couldn’t take _Ryan_ away. He couldn’t take her friend.

_“Vera!”_

She jerked, and sobbed as the lash marks on her back lit up with agony. She pushed herself weakly up on her hands. She shook her head, her tears rolling down her cheeks and onto the floor.

She cringed into herself as the sound of his footsteps descended on her. She cried out as his hand tightened in her hair and yanked her head back. She pushed weakly at his hand.

_“Vera!”_ he bellowed. _“Say it! Say it or I make you good!”_

_“No,”_ she sobbed. “Please don’t take him away. Please don’t take Ryan away.”

_“Who is Ryan?!”_ he screamed at her. _“Say what I am telling you to say, take your punishment, or I make you good!”_

_Ryan isn’t fucking worth that._

She wailed as the thought burned through her mind like a fire. _Ryan is fucking worth that! He is worth everything!_

_Not anymore. Now he’s dead, and there’s no fucking point in hurting for him anymore._

Her chest felt like it was being crushed. _So that’s it. I’m fucking weak. I’m disgusting. I would betray Ryan for a fucking break. I would betray him for a little pain. He’s the one who deserved to survive. Not me._

“Please kill me,” she whispered.

Her head rocked back with the blow. He crouched in front of her and grabbed her face in a painful grip. His eyes burned with something that terrified her. “What did you say?”

She trembled as she sagged forward in his grip. “Please,” she rasped. “Kill me.”

He grinned. “Why would I do that, now?”

“I’m broken,” she said weakly. “You win. Please. Just… just fucking kill me. I can’t take any more.”

“Oh, Vera,” he crooned. Icy dread crushed her. “This isn’t over once you break. No, sweetheart. You need to break in order to be good. I am never going to kill you, sweetheart, not until you’ve been made good and then _more,_ until you’ve been made pliant and worn-out and used up. I’m going to keep pushing you to be good. I know you can do it. You’re strong, Vera, but I know you can be my good girl. And once you’re good, truly good, I won’t have to punish you anymore, isn’t that right? I promise, after a while, you’ll bore me. It might take a few years, but you will. And at that point I’ll kill you. I promise. But until then…” He dragged her head forward and pressed a bruising kiss against her lips. “I’m going to keep breaking you, and keep breaking you, until you’re good for me. And what I need from you now…” He trailed the handle of the whip down her throat, over her collar, down her bare chest. “…is for you to say, ‘Ryan existed.’ I know it’s a lie, but humor me. Say it anyway. If you don’t…” He lifted her chin higher as he stared down at her. “I’m going to make you good, again and again, for the rest of the day. I don’t care if I make you bleed, or break something, or hurt you so badly you can’t walk for weeks. I’m going to make you good until I am satisfied you have _learned._ So.” He pulled her forward again, meeting her lips with an open mouth. “What’ll it be, Vera? I think you prefer the lies.”

She keened brokenly, her mouth falling open in agony. _I’ll try to hold onto him. I’ll try to hold onto Ryan._ Her head dropped forward out of his hand. “I…” She heaved a desperate sob. “I’ll tell you lies. I’ll lie about Ryan.”


	34. Chapter 34

_If I was going to save myself, the time for that has passed._

Vera was up and rolling to her knees before Joseph even entered the room. She bowed her head, wincing slightly as the collar pressed against the bruises the man had left on her neck the day before. Over and over again, he’d choked her, demanding she say his and Ryan’s name over and over. Until she could barely think of either at all without quivering in terror.

It had been weeks of this, and she was breaking. Already broken. She could scarcely remember what Ryan looked like. He’d been dead for longer than she’d known him.

All that was there now, in the part of her mind that he had occupied, was a dull, animal _terror._ _If I think of him, if I say his name, if I_ think _his name, there’s pain. It’s better to forget. Easier._ She folded her hands in her lap.

“Good morning, Vera,” Joseph said brightly, grinning at her as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. Waiting for him to come close enough to hurt her. Waiting for the pain that was always there, and only grew worse when he was around. The pain never left her. Not even when she slept.

He walked straight to her and reached out his hand to touch her hair. She jerked and forced herself to hold still, to let him do it. This was better than pain, and the pain would come if she pulled away. She knew that now. The knowledge was written in her soul. He ran his fingers through, his smile sliding wider as he looked down at her. She trembled and held still.

“You’ve been so good for me, Vera,” the man said softly. Vera’s heart lurched at the feeling of relief that came when she heard those words. Of safety. _I’m being good for him. I’m being good, so maybe he won’t hurt me._ She knew he would. He always did. All she could pray for was a postponement. “Today, I’m going to test you.”

Vera’s eyes slid shut and she fell forward, her head pulling out of his hand. _No._ She stifled a moan.

Joseph chuckled. “I figured that would be your reaction. But you’re going to be very good for me, aren’t you, Vera? You’re going to by my good girl, aren’t you? Or we’ll do something else today, something you’ll enjoy much less.”

_I just want to die. Please, please just let me die. I’m broken. I’m done._

Joseph walked away from her to the wall and took down a pair of handcuffs. Vera’s hands tightened around each other. _He’s going to tie me down, chain me up, something, he’s going to hurt me, he’s going to hurt me, he’s going to_ hurt me. She was nearly dizzy with terror. _He’ll always hurt me. There’s nothing I can do to stop him. Nothing._

The man returned to stand behind her. She shuddered as she imagined his eyes moving over her.

“Vera,” he said softly, “Put your hands behind your back.”

Vera sobbed, shuddered. Shook her head. _He’s going to hurt me. He’s going to cuff my hands behind my back so it’s easier._ Her hands shook as she twisted them together in her lap. A terrible white noise was rising in her mind, the pressure of having been given a command and _not following it._ She let out a keening wail and put her hands behind her back. _Broken._

“Good girl, Vera,” he crooned. She trembled as he wrapped his hand around one wrist, and slowly clicked the cuff down until it was tight. She held perfectly still as he grasped her other wrist and snapped the cuff into place. She heard him take a step back, and she heaved out a sob.

“Today,” he said as he walked to the wall where a chain hung from the ceiling, one end currently out of reach, “I am going to test you. You’ve been so good for me, Vera. _So_ good. But I want to see just how deep your dedication to obedience runs.” He guided the end of the chain up through the pulley on the ceiling, lowering the other end over her. Nothing good could come of it. It could only bring pain. The chain stopped when it hung almost to the floor.

He walked to her side and grabbed the end of the chain. With his other hand, he grasped the D ring on her collar and clipped the chain to it. She pressed her lips together and whimpered.

“Stand up, Vera,” he ordered. She obeyed without thinking. Her knees throbbed as she pushed herself to her feet, stumbling a little without the use of her hands. The chain running between her collar and the bolt on the floor rattled as it bumped against her shins. He went again to the wall and began to pull the end of the chain down.

“P—” The plea nearly left her lips before an overwhelming wave of icy terror clutched at her. _Never speak without permission._

Joseph smiled. “Good, sweetheart. You caught yourself. Eventually you will never slip up at all.” The collar tugged gently against her neck. She whined softly. He let the end of the chain go and stopped pulling. The ratchet system on the ceiling kept the chain tight.

He sauntered over to her, his lips pulling back over his teeth in a wicked grin. “Now.” He placed a hand on her cheek, gently. Tenderly. She had to stop herself from turning her face into the touch, knowing it was the last time anything would feel good for a long time. Her eyes filled with tears. The man sucked in a breath. “Oh, sweetheart. I love when you get desperate for me, looking up at me, begging me with those eyes.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to her lips. She flinched back before she caught herself and forced herself to lean into the kiss. _I just want to stop fucking hurting._

When Joseph pulled back, his lips were wet. He smiled. “Today, sweetheart, you’re going to say your rules for me. Every time you do, I’m going to tighten this chain one notch.” He reached up and jiggled the chain, and Vera coughed at the pressure on her throat. “You are not allowed to scream. You are not allowed to stop. If you stop, I’ll let you down, and I’ll make you good, because you will have earned it. If you keep going until I am satisfied…” He pressed his thumb against her lower lip. “Then I will let you down, and leave you alone for the rest of the day, as a reward. Do you understand? You can speak.”

Vera felt like she’d taken a punch to the gut. The tears in her eyes spilled over, and she stumbled forward, gagging for a moment as the collar closed around her throat. _He’s going to fucking choke me if I’m good for him and rape me if I’m not. How much do I have to fucking_ take _until he’s happy? How much do I have to suffer to not get raped today?_ Her breath rushed out of her in a twisted moan.

“Vera…” He took her jaw in his hand and tilted her face up, his hand tightening until it started to hurt. “Do you understand?”

She clenched her teeth and wailed, shaking so hard she felt like her knees would give out. _I don’t want to hurt. I don’t want to hurt._ She raised her eyes to his, cringing away from his gaze. There was the hint of a threat at the corners of his smile.

“I…” She swallowed, her throat moving painfully against the collar. “I understand.”

He smiled wider. “Good.” He released her face and walked to the wall. He put his hand on the chain dangling from the ceiling. “Tell me your rules.”

She sobbed, and drew in a deep breath. The last full breath she would take for a while. She squeezed her hands into fists and began.

“N-never speak without p-permission.” Her voice shook so hard she could barely get the words out. “Never, n-never sleep or eat without permission. Never, ah, scream unless you let me. Take all punishments with, without complaint. Never…” She squeezed her eyes shut, sending tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice tightened into a whisper. “Never take off the collar.” Her body locked hard in terror as the man pulled down on the chain. She felt a _click_ reverberate down the chain and her collar tightened around her neck. She whimpered and swallowed reflexively against the pressure.

“Again, sweetheart. Don’t stop, or I make you good.”

_“No,”_ she whispered, too quietly for the sound to carry. She wet her lips and started again. “Never speak without permission. N-never sleep or, or eat without permission.” There was no point in speaking slowly to postpone the pain. It would come. If she got this over with she would either be done, or be raped, but it would be over sooner if she didn’t draw it out. “Never s-scream without permission. Take all punishments without, um, complaint. Never take off the collar.” Another click, and the collar tightened further. She could hear the high-pitched sound of her tortured breathing whistling through her throat. She rose up on her toes, trying to relieve the pressure.

“Never, um, speak without permission. Never s-sleep or eat without permission. N-never scream without per, permission. Take all punishments without complaint. Never take off the, the collar.”

Another click. A whimper forced its way from her throat. She didn’t wait for the man to prompt her. She had to finish this. _Had_ to finish it.

“Never speak with, without, permission.” She gasped. She couldn’t get enough air. “N-never sleep or eat. Without permission.” She panted hard against the pressure around her throat, sweat moistening her skin. “Never scream, without permission. Take all, all, punishments, without complaint.” She dragged in a breath, desperate for air before the collar tightened again. “Never take off the collar,” she mumbled.

Another click. She gagged as the collar tightened harder around her throat, nearly closing off her airway. Her eyes went wide and she yanked hard on the handcuffs. Her whimper twisted into a squeak as she struggled.

The man left his place at the wall and slowly approached her. “Vera…” He took her face in his hands. “Are you giving up? Do I have to make you good?”

_“No,”_ she croaked, gagging and gasping around the collar. “I… Never, speak, without permission.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Never, nnnnh, never sleep or, eat, without, permission. Never, scream, with, out, permission. Take all, punishments, without—” She gagged and whined high in her throat. “Without, complaint. Never…” She pushed herself up on her toes as high as she could go, desperate for one last breath. One last breath before he hanged her. The next one would kill her, she knew. “…take off, the, collar.”

His mouth pulled into a terrifying smile. “Very good, Vera. One more, I think. If you can do one more, I won’t make you good.”

She shook her head frantically, sobbing as he stalked away from her. He put his hand on the chain. She wanted to scream, to beg, to tell him no, she’d take the rape, just please don’t do this anymore. Panic forced the words down. _He said I couldn’t scream._ He threw a vicious grin at her and tightened the chain one more time.

A strangled sob tore from her chest. She yanked hand against the handcuffs, tearing open the skin that had only just healed. She staggered on the tips of her toes, desperate for an extra lungful of air, an extra centimeter of slack. The man stalked to her side and placed his hands on either side of her face. She bucked and trembled against the crushing pressure of the collar around her neck.

“Vera…”

She couldn’t focus on him. Her eyes were wide with panic, darting around the room, blurry with tears, as her head spun dizzily. Her mouth gaped open and she dragged in a thin inhale.

“Vera…” The man pulled gently up on her head, helping her hold herself up, giving her an infinitesimal measure of relief. “Tell me your rules. Get through one more round, and you’re finished. I know you can do it. Be my good girl.”

_If I just bend my knees and drop, this will kill me. It’ll be over._ Her knees shook with the temptation. _It would be painful, but I might be able to die before he realizes what I’ve done and lets me down._

_He’d probably still rape my body anyway._

_I don’t want to die._

The air whistled down her throat as she dragged it desperately in. A headache pounded through her skull.

“N, never, speak…” Her voice came out twisted, crushed, but she said the words. “With, with, out, permission.” Her eyes rolled back as she strangled.

“Good.”

“Ne, ver, sleep, or—” She sobbed weakly. “—eat with, out, per, mi, ssion.”

“Keep going, sweetheart.”

“Nnnnnh, p—” Her mouth snapped shut. She wasn’t going to waste air on begging. Not when she could still feel the bruises from the last time he was inside her. “Never, hhh, scre-eam with, out, permission.”

“Good.”

“Ahh, t-take all, pun, punish-ments with, out, complaint.”

“Almost finished, Vera. One more rule, then you can rest.”

She panted, her muscles spasming, her wrists torn and bleeding again, her throat nearly crushed. Her vision was going black at the edges. Panic gripped her even deeper. _I don’t want to wake up to him raping me I don’t want that I DON’T WANT THAT I DON’T WANT THAT._ Her mouth gaped open as she helplessly, desperately fought for air. His hands tightened on her face.

“One more, sweetheart. Or else I make you good. Over and over and over again. You’re almost good for me, sweetheart. Don’t ruin it now.”

“Never… take…” The room was spinning around her, going dark. Everything was fading away but the agony in her throat. That was swelling and growing until it overtook her mind, pushing out all other thoughts.

“Don’t stop now, sweetheart.”

Vera’s eyes rolled back as she strained against the collar. She couldn’t remember what she was saying. _Last rule. Last rule._

“N-never… nnnh, take… off…” She tried to swallow, but the movement caught halfway down. “…the…” A whine scraped through her throat, making it raw, making her want to swallow again.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can be good for me.”

_What does he want? What was I saying?_ Her mind drifted, her head dropping forward into his hands. _What does he want from me?_ The collar was tightening, tearing her apart, crushing her, _killing her._ She couldn’t think. She couldn’t _breathe._ She couldn’t get the fucking words out, she couldn’t say the thing that would spare her. She couldn’t remember what she was supposed to say. She couldn’t think of what he wanted.

And it was all because of the…

…the fucking…

…the…

_“…collar.”_

“Very good, Vera.” His hands left her face.

She bleated in desperate terror. _He said he would stop this. He said he would…_ Her thoughts were sliding out of her head as she was pulled down into darkness.

There was a click, and the collar tightened once more as Joseph released the catch.

She crumpled to the floor.

She dragged in a ragged gasp and coughed until she thought her throat must have torn. Surely, there must be lasting damage. Surely having her throat crushed like this would kill her. If not now, then later. She couldn’t survive this.

She didn’t want to fucking survive this.

She gasped and choked, coughing, sweating, sobbing hard as her throat slowly relaxed. She lay on the floor in a twisted heap.

She flinched as soft fingers stroked gently through her hair. She shuddered as the man’s soft voice washed over her, flooding her with relief. “Good job, sweetheart. You’re so good for me.”

She sobbed as he unclipped the chain from her collar, whimpering as his fingers brushed the sore and aching skin of her throat. There was a rattle as he pulled the chain up and back out of reach. He settled to the floor and sat beside her, stroking her hair, her face. She lay still under the touch.

“I knew you could be good for me,” the man crooned. “I _knew_ it. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You’re my sweet girl.”

She wailed weakly against the floor. Her throat spasmed.

“No more pain today. You’re earned a reprieve. Have some water, sweetheart.”

She shook her head against the ground as he stood and retrieved a bottle of water from outside the door. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled her upright. She swayed where she sat, dizzy. Bruised. Gasping. He cracked the lid on the bottle and held it to her lips.

She swallowed weakly and winced at how her throat moved painfully, feeling like she had swallowed splinters of glass. She whimpered.

“Don’t complain, sweetheart. I could let you go without.” Her eyes slid closed. She accepted more water.

Slowly, he helped her drink the whole bottle. Her throat was in agony. She wanted to rest. To die. _Why didn’t I just let him hang me?_

The man gently took her face in his hands and guided it up until she was forced to look at him. He had a terrifying grin on his face. “You did so well. And you’ve earned your rest. I have work to do, but I’ll be back in a few hours with food.” He stood slowly and turned towards the door. “I’m going to leave another water for you.” He sauntered over slowly to the other bottle of water and placed it within her reach. She looked slowly from the bottle up to him, pulling idly at the handcuffs still locking her hands behind her back. Joseph laughed and smiled wider. “I’ll get you out of the handcuffs then. Until then if you want water, you’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

With a chuckle, he turned and left.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this one is rough. No new tags

Vera woke to the sound of multiple people just outside the cell, the door already cracked. She blinked, confused. _Another party?_ She shuddered, and rolled to her knees. _What will they want from me this time? How can they degrade me any more?_

_Take all punishments without complaint._ It was more than a thought. It was a compulsion. It was a _need,_ deep in her body, to know those words, because without those words it was only pain.

The door swung open, pushed by a man carrying one end of some sort of… table? Chair? Vera wasn’t sure. She was too tired to be curious. Another man carried the other end. Her captor walked in behind them.

“Right here,” he said, indicating with a pointed finger a spot just to the left of the door. The men lowered the thing to the floor and straightened, dusting off their hands.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” the man crooned.

_Joseph._

Terror nearly bowled her over. _I am not allowed to know his name._

The man approached her and reached out a hand, petting her hair gently. She shivered and held still. “We’re going to do something new today.”

Vera shuddered. _Something new._ That was never good. That was never safe.

_Nothing’s ever safe. Everything is pain._

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to the lock securing the chain to her collar. “Now sweetheart,” he purred, “You’re going to be very good for me, aren’t you?” He reached for her collar and unlocked the chain.

She nodded mechanically. _I’m always fucking good. And you hurt me anyway._

“Good.” He smiled. “I have some men here today to help me if you’re not good.” The man stood up and stepped away from her. “Stand up, Vera.”

Without questioning, without thinking, Vera pushed herself to her feet. She swayed, a little unbalanced without the chain pulling at her collar. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Good. Walk over here to the table.”

Vera walked, her feel cold on the cement floor. Always cold. Always cold. She reached the edge of the table.

Now that she focused on the table, she saw restraints lining the edge, open, ready for use. At one end there were two step-like things at about knee-level, one coming from each of the legs of the table. The table was padded, and so were the steps. She swallowed.

“Vera…” She felt a hand on her back. Her flesh shuddered under the touch. “Kneel here.” Joseph indicated the two steps. Vera slowly lowered herself onto the small platforms, her legs slightly spread, her hips pressed against the edge of the table. The hair the on the back of her neck stood up. She knew what was about to happen, but her brain wouldn’t let her think it. Protecting her, until the actual act.

“Good girl. Now. Bend over the table, and stretch your arms out as far as they’ll go.”

Vera’s throat worked around a swallow. _Oh._ She shoved down the sob that rose in her chest, shut her eyes tight against the tears that sprang to her eyes. Opened them again. Took in a breath. Leaned forward.

She stretched her upper body over the table, prostrating herself. The two men moved forward, grins on their faces. The each grabbed one of Vera’s arms and pulled them to the edges of the table, tightening a restraint over each wrist until she could barely move. She shuddered as she felt a hand on her back.

“Don’t move, sweetheart,” the man rasped behind her. She stiffened at the sound of a knife folding open.

She tried to stifle her gasp as she felt the cold blade at the waistline of her pants. The fabric split under the knife with barely a sound as he cut down the seat of her pants, down the back of one leg until the fabric slipped off her body, then the other leg. She shivered at the cold air against her naked skin. The man pulled the scraps of her pants out from under one shin, then the other. She shifted her weight to make it easier.

“Good.”

Dull panic curdled in her stomach as she felt two more restraints buckle around her legs just below the knees, and around her ankles. She was bent over the table, exposed, her legs bent, her shins supported and strapped down to the two little platforms sticking out from the table legs. She bit her lip against the whimper that threatened. She lowered her forehead to the table and felt tears run from her eyes.

The man’s hand – _Joseph’s hand,_ she thought with a flinch – ran up her back, up her neck, and settled in her hair. She shuddered as he bent over her and held his lips to her ear.

“You’ve been so good for me lately, sweetheart,” he said softly. “You’re doing _so_ well. So I wanted to try something today. Today, we’re going to practice what it’s going to be like when you’re completely good for me. We’re going to practice you being good, being completely open and ready for my use whenever I see fit to use you. Eventually we won’t need these restraints at all. Eventually you’ll walk over to your place and take up this position whenever I tell you to. But for today… today, this is new. I’m going to give you the chance to get used to it.”

Vera whined weakly against the table.

“Today, I’m going to do my work down here, with you. You will stay in this position for me, ready for whenever I want to take you. When I want to fuck you, I’ll do so. When I want to work, you will stay silent, and awake. No sleeping. No begging. No speaking. Do you understand? I give you permission to speak.”

Vera whimpered, her head still pressed against the table. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Good,” the man crooned. He turned to the men waiting by the door. “Bring a desk down here, please, and my computer. I might be fucking her when you come in, but don’t worry about interrupting. She must learn this. She must learn there is no privacy when I’m using her.”

“Yes sir,” they said at the same time, their voices strained with lust. They both turned to go. As they went, Vera rolled her head to the side to watch them leave. She could see the outlines of erections at the front of their pants. The door closed behind them.

“Hmm.” Joseph hummed deep in this throat as he trailed his fingers over her back, drifting lower, moving over her hips. He took up position behind her. Her chest ached with despair as the heard the sound of him opening the zipper of his pants. She whimpered.

“Shh, sweetheart. No noises this time. Much as I love to hear you…” She recoiled as he pressed his fingers against her, spreading her open. “…today, you need to be good. For your long-term improvement.”

The man let out a lascivious moan as he pressed his cock into her with no preparation.

The gritted her teeth and strained against the restraints around her wrists as she fought not to make a sound. By now the feeling was familiar, the pull, the burn. The invasion. He pressed himself in to the hilt.

She winced as he pressed against her cervix, aching where she’d been bruised so many times. It was agony, but it was familiar. She knew this territory. He’d fuck her, again and again and again. He wasn’t taking away her air. He wasn’t whipping her. It was just fucking.

It was just rape.

Joseph slowly eased his cock out of her and slammed it back in. She let out a strangled sob as she tightened around Joseph, agony spreading through her pelvis, down her legs, sweeping through her mind until she felt like she’d be sick. He laughed.

“Hush, Vera. Remember your rules. I’ll gag you, if it’ll help.”

She heaved out a sob and her head fell to the table. _I’ll take anything that’ll make me follow the rules and avoid more pain._ She nodded miserably.

Joseph pulled himself out of her and turned to walk to the wall, his cock still out of his pants. A hysterical laugh nearly burst out of her at how absolutely ridiculous he looked, pecker sticking out in front of him in his nice slacks and expensive shoes. He pulled down a ball gag from the wall and walked back to her side.

“I would gag you with my cock, sweetheart, but I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the rest of you. Open your mouth. Come on, sweetheart.”

Slowly, she opened her mouth. Tears poured down her face. He eased the ball gag into her mouth and pulled the straps behind her head, buckling it firmly, but not too tight. She was grateful, and then hated herself for thinking it. _I’m grateful he isn’t choosing to buckle the ball gag too tight while he rapes me._

_I used to be someone else, once._

Now, though, she was a plaything in a basement for a man whose name she wasn’t allowed to know. She was an object. She was a toy. And she was becoming _good._ He said so.

The numbness almost rose up to take her, then.

As it receded, leaving her painfully, excruciatingly present in her own body, she moaned desperately. He responded with a moan of his own.

“Come now, Vera, don’t tease me like that. No noises. Be a good girl.”

She scrambled in her mind, grasping for the numbness, for that comfortable blanket of _nothing nothing nothing_ that sometimes overtook her and dragged her away from this cell. It was there so much of the time these days. It slipped through her fingers, slithered back into her body. She trembled.

He moved behind her and forced himself into her again.

It took everything she had not to cry out. He pulled out again, pressed himself back in, slowly, almost tenderly. Working her open. Using her. Fucking her.

He sighed and got into a rhythm.

Every single moment, Vera had to force herself not to scream. Every movement, she felt like she was being torn open. She’d been used like this so many times. So fucking many times. It never became less painful. It never became easier. It only became something she got used to.

Her hips ached already as each thrust pushed her against the table. She ached despite the faux-leather covering and padding on the table. His fingers dug into her hips and he started to fuck her _hard._

Sweat broke out on her skin as she forced the moans down, the screams. She cried out in her mind, reaching for the numbness. For the solace of absence from her own body. She prayed to die, or for this to end. She prayed for him to finish.

Her head was yanked back as he closed his hand around her hair. She whimpered, straining against the restraints around her wrists. Her neck ached. She looked blankly at the ceiling as her jaw worked to adjust the gag in her mouth.

The door opened, and the men came back in with the desk. Their eyes found Vera immediately, and one man gasped. A grin spread across both their faces. Vera remembered someone else coming down here to see her hurt and raped, someone else who looked at her like that but was _lying._ Someone who cared.

Her mind shuddered, and she shoved the thought away.

“Oh,” one of the men sighed. “ _Sir,_ she’s… sorry to interrupt. That’s, um… _so hot._ ”

“Thank you, Shriever. Please place the desk just there.”

“Y-yes sir.” The man licked his lips and turned to carry the desk where Joseph had indicated. “Um, sir, may I…?”

The rhythm of his hips against hers never faltered. “Yes?”

“I h-heard you sometimes, um, share her. Could I— Could we…?”

“No, Shriever,” the man said calmly. “Not today. Today she has to be good for _me._ ”

The man shrank a little. “Yes, sir.” He took the laptop bag off his shoulder and placed it on the desk. He and the other man turned and left the room without another word.

“Good girl, Vera. Not screaming for me. Let me test you a little.”

The man let go of her hair and grasped her hips until she could feel her skin bruise. He pulled her back onto him and fucked into her as hard as he could.

He grunted like an animal, and she felt drops of his sweat dripping onto her ass. Tears trickled down her nose onto the table, and her throat ached as she strained not to make a sound. Her hips were shoved forward against the table so hard she wasn’t sure what hurt more: him inside her, or her hips rubbing raw against the edge of the table.

_Will he ever finish?_ It felt like it was taking him longer than usual.

Inside her, where he was thrusting into her, she felt something start to change. She felt things loosen. She felt things become easier.

She felt herself getting wet.

She shuddered. _No. No. I’m not… I’m not_ enjoying this. _I don’t want this. I can’t be… this doesn’t feel good. This hurts. Why is my body acting like it doesn’t?_ Her heart clenched and she gagged against the ball gag in her mouth. _No no no no no why why why why no…_

“Ahh, Vera,” he groaned behind her. “You’re being so good. I can feel you wanting this, too.”

_NO!_

She felt paralyzed. Even if she wasn’t strapped down, she wasn’t sure if she could’ve moved if she wanted to. She was trapped, crushed under the weight of her horror. She was beyond disgusted. This threatened to annihilate her. This was devastation, so much more than what he was doing to her. This was _betrayal,_ on a level she’d never felt before.

Despite herself, she sighed. _Thank you, body, for making it easier._

The numbness crept into her mind again.

She nearly cried out in relief as she reached out for it, put it on like a blanket. It swept over her, deadening the pain where he was fucking her, the pain in her hips, the pain in her wrists, the pain in her jaw. The pain in her heart, in her mind. It all darkened, as if turned down a few notches. Suddenly, it was doable. Suddenly, it was alright.

_I’m being good and this is the worst thing he’ll do to me today._

The thought rushed through her, warming her as she sweat under his hands. _I’m being good. I can be good for him so he won’t hurt me. I’m numb, I’m not here, I’m done, so I’m being good. I’m saving myself._ Her eyes swam with tears, but this was from bitter, sharp joy. _The numbness is here, making me good, and I didn’t even have to suffer that much for it to come._

Far, far away, miles away, she felt her own slickness as he rutted into her. She felt the pain as he punched into her with each thrust. She felt the bruises as he dug his fingers into her hips. Felt the gag in her mouth. Felt the air in her legs. But more than that, she felt _gone._ She smiled around the gag.

Finally, his grunts tightened and rose to whine. He dumped himself unto her with a groan, and stayed inside her for a minute more, twitching inside her, softening. He pulled himself out and laughed.

He walked around so she could see him, wiping himself off with the scrap of her ruined pants. He grinned as he looked down at her. “I’m not going to get any work today, am I?” he asked fondly.

She slumped to the table, doing her best to lift her hips back and away from the table, relieving the pressure on her hipbones. He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I want to go again soon, too. Give me a few minutes. I’m not seventeen anymore.” He winked at her. “Although… why have you only _half_ naked? You have a beautiful body, Vera. I want to see it. I want to see my beautiful plaything, and all the marks I’ve made on her.”

He pulled the knife out of his pocket and flicked it open. He hooked the blade under the collar of her shirt on the back of her neck and tore her shirt down her back to the hem. He cut the sleeves off her one by one and left the fabric in a heap on the floor. His eyes moved over her hungrily, over the marks on her back, the curves of her ass, over her breasts, pressed against the table so he could only see the sides of them. He licked his lips. _“Lovely,”_ he whispered.

He sat on his desk, his eyes never leaving Vera’s body. He palmed himself over his pants, rubbing his limp cock, then pulled himself out of his pants and stroked himself obscenely. Sighing. Moaning.

It didn’t take long before he was ready again. He walked behind her, cock in hand.

“God, Vera, I should have cut your shirt off before. You’re lovely, sweetheart. God, you’re exquisite. No, I’m not going to get any work done today. No work done at _all._ ”

He pressed his finger into her, swirling in a circle. “Mm. You’re still so ready for me. Alright, sweetheart. You can make noise this time. You were so good for me last time. Let me hear those moans, Vera. I want to hear my sweet girl.” He slid his cock into her again. This time, it was much easier.

She moaned raggedly as he pressed himself in to the hilt. She could feel the cum inside her, and her own wetness, guiding him along. Easing the pain. She whimpered with relief. _This time won’t be as bad._

He grabbed her hips and started fucking her at a breakneck pace.

“My second time today, sweetheart, I can make it last longer. If you’re getting this wet for me, I know you’ll want more. Let me hear you, Vera. Let me hear you moan and whimper for me.”

She sobbed, pulling once at the restraints before she collapsed back to the table again. She rocked forward with every thrust of his hips, moving against the table. The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room.

“Ohh, Vera, Jesus sweetheart, you’re being so good. I’m so happy you’re breaking for me. You’re so good. You’re _so. Fucking. Good._ ” He punctuated each word with a particularly vicious thrust. She cried out with each one. “ _Yes._ Let me hear your voice.”

The numbness crept over her again, and before she even realized it, she was standing beside herself. Her gaze moved over her own body, her ass and thighs rippling with each of the man’s thrusts. His face was screwed up in a sort of twisted, awful ecstasy, his mouth open, words falling from his lips. She couldn’t hear them. She knew he was speaking, she could feel his voice as it moved through her mind, but she couldn’t hear him. She looked at her the skin of her wrists strained against the leather cuffs, at how her hair hung limp and dull around her head. She saw the gag in her own mouth, saliva dripping around it and down her chin, saw the collar that had rubbed her throat raw. She saw the marks on her back, some red and open still, some completely scarred over. Long, bruising marks, and short ones, from the cane and the whip. The saw the bruises on her body from the beatings.

She saw her eyes. They were open, dead, staring at the wall in front of her, blank, completely unfocused. Her mind cried out in alarm. _Is that me? Am I really that gone?_

A sound forced its way back into her attention.

_“Come on,_ sweetheart, make noise for me. I give you permission. You know how much I love your noises.”

_An order._

She scrambled to follow, cast around for the muscles that controlled her throat and vocal cords. She’d moan for him. She’d fake it. She’d scream. There was enough pain stored in her body for that. She grew more and more desperate, flailed in her brain, hunting for the right _muscle._ She started to panic. _I can’t find it._

A slap, hard, on her ass. Her body jerked, but she didn’t make noise. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t home, couldn’t make her body do what she wanted. _Please, please, just a scream, that’s all I need to do…_ She tried to scream. Tried to whimper, to sob, to moan. She couldn’t do it. She lay limp on the table, held up only by the restraints around her wrists. _Oh no no no no no…_

The man growled. “ _Fine._ But I will just make you good, then, again and again today. I don’t have to work at all. I can just keep making you good, and when I run out of energy, I’ll fuck you with other things. Do you understand?”

She understood. She wanted to give him what he wanted, she really did. She wanted to be good, so he wouldn’t rape her again. She wanted to do it, so he would stop hurting her.

She couldn’t. She wasn’t driving her body anymore.

He finished, emptying himself into her with a groan. His cum dribbled out of her and she lay strapped to the table, waiting for him to recover and get hard again.

She lost time. He was there, she could feel it, but _she_ wasn’t there. Not at all. She wasn’t inhabiting her body anymore.

He was behind her again, fucking into her again. She could feel it, and she couldn’t. She was there, and she wasn’t. She could feel his anger behind her like the pressure before a storm. She tried to make noise for him. She tried to be good for him. She couldn’t find her voice. It had been beaten out of her, or taken by the numbness. She couldn’t obey, couldn’t be good.

He finished. He left his place behind her. She drifted in the sea of fog again. She wasn’t sleeping. She knew it, because her eyes were open and she could see. She was just… gone.

Again, his cock inside her. Again, pain that she knew was there, but couldn’t feel. She made a noise in her throat, almost sobbing with relief as it came out of her. She only felt the anger behind her grow darker, sharper, as he locked his hands around her hips and slammed her forward, nearly moving the table with each thrust.

She slipped away again, looked around to see him sitting on his desk, touching himself again, his face dark, his lip curled in distain. She lay her head back down on the table.

He was inside her again, and she cried out in despair and terror as the mists dropped away suddenly and all the pain rushed back into her body at once.

“That’s right, you fucking _plaything,_ ” the man growled. “Scream for me. You’re fucking nothing. You’re a plaything, strapped down to my table, in my basement, here for my use and nothing else. If I want to fuck you until you’re dead, I will. _Do you understand me?_ ”

She wailed and nodded, the skin around her wrists nearly torn from the force of her body being supported just on her arms as he rode her.

“ _Good girl._ You fucking _plaything._ I should kill you right here. That’s what I should do. Just fuck you and fuck you and fuck you, for days until you’re dead.”

She screamed out her horror. She could feel each thrust, could smell blood. _Am I just imagining that? I remember the smell of blood in here. The smell of blood so powerful it didn’t smell normal in here for days. Why?_ She shuddered and cringed at the wave of pain that came over her as she tried to remember.

“ _Now_ you fucking scream for me.” She felt a jerk on the back of her head, and the gag came away. “Beg me, plaything. Beg me for your fucking life.”

_“Please,”_ she sobbed. “Please no, please, please don’t rape me to death, I’ll be good, I’ll scream for you, I’ll be good I’ll be good I’ll be good I’ll be good _please!_ ” Her mouth fell open in a desperate, broken shriek. “ _No,_ please, please don’t kill me like this sir _please don’t kill me!_ ”

_“Good,”_ he snarled. He leaned over her and smashed his hips into her so hard the table moved slightly. “Take my cock, you fucking _plaything._ You exist to be used, and nothing else. You exist because I let you _breathe._ ”

_“I know,”_ she cried. “I know, sir, please, _please!_ ”

“Keep begging me,” he said, his voice twisted with rage. “Beg me until your fucking voice gives out. I tried to make things easy for you, sweetheart. I tried. I really did. And you were _bad._ Keep begging me. Beg me for your fucking life. As soon as you stop, I’m going to do something worse.”

_There’s nothing worse than this,_ a voice echoed in her head.

The numbness crept back in. She fought against it, raged, screaming in her mind that she needed to stay, now. She needed to stay. She needed the pain, so she could beg him not to kill her.

Her body betrayed her again. Her body didn’t care. She slipped under.


	36. Chapter 36

At some point, Vera became aware the man had stopped. She lay bent over the table, exposed, bleeding, dripping sweat and cum and tears. Bruised, from where he’d beaten her as he fucked her. She felt his hands on her again and she groaned.

“Shh, sweetheart,” the man crooned next to her ear, his fingers moving slowly through her hair. “It’s alright.”

She whimpered he stroked slowly down her back, over her hips, down her legs. She was numb. She could barely feel the touch.

She stirred as she felt the straps around her legs loosen, then give way. She let out a miserable keen as he guided her legs off the platforms and planted her feet firmly on the floor. Her legs wobbled under her, and her back _ached._ It was nothing compared to where he’d been fucking her for hours.

The man sighed as his hands drifted back up her body, to her wrists. He whispered soft, gentle words in her ear as he undid one strap around her wrist, then the other. Her legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor with a low cry.

“Oh, my dear,” the man murmured. “That won’t do.”

She couldn’t find it in herself to be afraid. She wasn’t in herself at all. She was scarcely aware that she had a body she was meant to inhabit. The man had pulled her out of that body, forced her out of it as he forced himself in. There was nothing of her left. Nothing, but her pain.

She felt his warmth close to her as he knelt beside her, brushed the hair away from her face. She didn’t flinch away, or lean into the touch. She existed. She took up space.

“Vera,” he said gently. “Oh, my girl. Today was a very hard day, wasn’t it, sweetheart?”

Her body, by itself, nodded. It knew what it had to do to survive. She couldn’t be there to guide it anymore.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” The man pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Especially at the end. If I hadn’t run out of steam I could have fucked you all the way through the day, couldn’t I?”

She nodded again. Once he’d fucked her for the eighth time, the tenth, she didn’t know anymore, he’d taken a dildo down from the wall and fucked her hard with that. Forced a plug into her ass so she’d feel him inside her, even when he was across the room, resting. She couldn’t feel it in her now. She wondered if he’d taken it out, or if she just couldn’t feel what was in her body now.

“Let me take care of you, my sweet Vera. You’ve earned it. I’ve finally made you good.”

She nodded again, tried to make a noise of assent with a throat that was raw from screaming. Her body had finally remembered how to scream, after the sixth time. Or maybe the seventh.

“Hmm. Good girl. I had Damien bring us some food and water, and blankets. A cot, so I can lay down next to you. Would you like all that? Do you want to be good for me?”

_Never speak without permission._ She nodded again. If he wanted her to speak, he would tell her.

“You can speak, Vera. You can speak for the rest of the day, if you want you. You’ve earned it, _god,_ sweetheart, you’re so good for me.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” Vera rasped.

The man stood away from her, and she slumped against the leg of the table. Tried not to look at the puddle of blood and cum on the floor next to her. Tried not to see, not to feel.

That last part wasn’t so hard.

She looked around and realized the other man, _Damien,_ was in the room with her and the man now, carrying a cot between them. They set it down and Damien jogged out, only to jog back in with a pile of blankets and a pillow under his arm. He deposited them on the cot and left once more, to bring in a tray of food and bottles of water. He was just another presence in the room, another man. She registered him one moment, and forgot him the next.

The man walked to her side again and crouched down next to her. She stared blankly straight ahead as his gaze moved over her, moving like a physical weight against her skin. “Vera,” the man said softly. “Come here. Let me carry you. I doubt you can walk.”

Without thinking, without ever giving her body the command, she reached out and put her arms around the man’s neck. He buried his face in her hair and scooped his arms around her, standing with her, stumbling a little. “Hold on to me, sweetheart. It’s just across the room.”

He carried her to the cot, his hands pressing against her skin, one more touch on a body marked with bruises. One more touch, on a body she didn’t own anymore. The body belonged to the man carrying it, claimed in every way imaginable.

The man laid her with a gentle tenderness on the cot, and she stretched out along it. Not adjusting to make things more comfortable. Not taking the pressure off the cane marks on her back. Just lying there, waiting for him to touch her again, move her into position again. Do whatever he wanted to her body. The body he owned.

“Thank you, Damien,” the man said gently. “That’ll be all until I need the cot removed.” Damien left, leaving her alone with the man. _There is no one in this cell but me._

The man spread out one blanket over her, then another. She shivered as she cold she was so used to faded, eased. There was a core of ice in her that would never melt but for now… for now, her skin was warm. He lowered himself to the cot beside her and pulled the blankets up over him, too. Warmer, now. Much warmer. He settled the pillow under both their heads and wrapped his arms around her.

She sighed at the wave of warmth that came over her, and safety. When he was this close to her, he couldn’t whip her. Couldn’t beat her, not with much success, anyway. He didn’t have his knife on him, so he couldn’t cut her.

He could fuck her like this, it’s true. But he wasn’t right now. Right now, he was just holding her. And that was alright. She swallowed, and her throat felt like sandpaper. _He gave me permission to speak._

“Um… s-sir?” she croaked.

The man smiled against her forehead, and pressed another kiss there. “Yes, sweetheart?”

She cleared her throat. “Could I please… have some water?”

“Oh, of course, sweetheart,” the man said softly. “Of course you can.” He reached over the side of the cot and grabbed a bottle of water. He propped himself up on his elbow and cracked open the top.

Vera moaned softly as he held the bottle to her lips, her eyelids fluttering closed as the cool water washed over her parched tongue. She swallowed slowly, savoring the sensation as it ran down her throat. She leaned forward and opened her mouth to the bottle again.

Slowly, he gave her the water, swallow by swallow, helping her drink with his own hands, one holding the bottle, one tenderly holding her chin. Slowly, until the bottle was gone. She felt like she could keep drinking forever.

“You’re my good girl, sweetheart,” the man said softly, stroking her hair as he dropped the empty bottle beside the cot. “Oh, my sweet girl. You’re finally good for me. You’re finally broken. And it took…” He laughed gently. “Fifty days. You’re a ferocious one.” He cradled her face. “But I win.”

She nodded, and turned her face into the touch. _This is the only good thing he gives me. This feels so good._

He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his. She immediately went limp, boneless, compliant in his arms. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and she automatically opened her mouth to him, like he’d found the latch to open a door. He pressed his tongue in deep and rolled over on top of her.

A small, frightened voice in the back of her mind whispered, _Get out. The chain is off the collar. Get out of there. He’s going to hurt you again. Save yourself. Save yourself. He’s going to rape you again._

_There is no escape._

She tilted her head back, breaking the kiss, and presented her neck to him. He loved kissing her neck, licking the bruises there, biting down hard enough to break skin, to make her scream. He laughed against her throat and drew his tongue across her neck, just along the edge of the collar there.

“So receptive,” the man murmured. His hands moved under the blanket, kneading her breast, pinching her nipple, massaging her hip. It dimly occurred to her that _this_ is what it felt like to have sex with a man, when it wasn’t rape. In a bed, or close to it. Under the covers. Gentle. Tender. Hands exploring, touching. She sighed and let her legs fall to either side.

“Oh, _really,_ ” the man whispered against her skin, and rubbed the swell of his erection against her bare thigh. Her eyes fell shut, a dull, heavy fear hardening in her stomach.

The man took her wrists in one of his hands. She opened her eyes at the sting of the raw skin under his touch, but didn’t move. Couldn’t. He guided her hands up over her head and pinned them down.

“Keep your hands right here for me, sweetheart,” the man crooned, and slid his hand back down her arm, resting lightly around her neck. Her throat closed with a stab of panic. “Breathe, Vera,” he ordered. She dragged in a breath.

“I remember the first few times I made you good, you had your hands pinned like this over your head in those handcuffs. That was so long ago, sweetheart. More than a month ago. Almost two.”

A tear ran from the corner of her eye, down the side of her face. He brushed it gently away with his knuckle.

“Hmm.” He grinned at her. “I want you like this for a while. I want you to remember this, Vera. When I want you, you are to put your hands over your head just like this, with your legs apart. Do you understand?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

_“Good,”_ he purred. He pulled her legs wider apart and crawled between her knees.

She stared at the ceiling and pressed her lips together.

“Vera,” he breathed into her ear. She shuddered. “My good girl. It’s been blood and pain for you lately, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” she said dully.

“Mmm.” He nosed against the side of her neck. “But sometimes all I want from you is softness. Obedience. Brokenness.” He reached down to unzip his pants, and his cock pushed against Vera. She whimpered softly.

He _tsk_ ed at her. “No no no, sweetheart. No more pain today. You’re being so good for me, aren’t you? I don’t have to make it hurt. I can make it gentle.”

She forced down the whine in her throat as tears streamed into her hair.

“Here, sweetheart. This will make it a little better, won’t it?” He reached into his pocket, rummaging for something she couldn’t see beneath the blankets. She gasped as his finger pressed into her, cool and slicked with lube.

_He planned for this. He could have made it easier this whole time._ She forced down a sob.

“No, Vera. Don’t start that. You’re being good for me, remember?” She nodded miserably. He grinned. “Good girl. No, I’m just going to fuck you slowly now. Sweetly. Just how I know you like. You’ve done this for me before, haven’t you? As much as I’ve given you pain today, do you think I could still make you come?”

_You can make me do anything you want,_ she thought bitterly.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Hmm,” he sighed. He added another finger, added more lube. _So generous._

He laughed softly. “You truly are my plaything now, Vera,” he murmured. “I’ve finally made you good. And now I’m going to reward you. This is for you, sweetheart. I’m going to make you come.”

Slowly, tenderly, he eased himself inside her.

She almost screamed then, almost screamed from the sting and _ache_ of him pressing into her where he’d bruised her so badly. Her head fell back with a whimper, and her hands squeezed into fists where she kept them anchored above her head. He moaned into her ear and dragged his teeth down her neck.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” he ordered.

She obliged.

She whined as he eased out of her, and back in again, deeper with each thrust until he was inside her to the hilt. She shuddered as he rolled his hips against hers, and began to fuck her.

She groaned softly, the ache of the assault buzzing in the back of her mind. _He told me he’s going to make me come. If I don’t come from this, he’ll hurt me more, oh god, he’ll hurt me he’ll hurt me he’ll hurt me._ Silently, she pleaded for her body to respond. To react, to trigger that warming glow that would grow and grow in her until…

She lifted her hips up, trying to angle him better. Trying to take the pressure off the bruises.

He braced himself up on his hands and looped his arms behind her knees, forcing her legs further out to the side, working himself deeper inside her. Stabs of pain shot through her torn flesh. She whimpered.

“Sir…” She licked her lips.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“It would help if I could… um…” She flushed, an ugly shame sweeping through her body. “Can I touch myself while you do this? Please?”

“Oh, no, Vera,” he said with a laugh. “You may not. I will touch you, because you are mine.” He moved his thumb over her clit and pressed down.

She gasped at the wave of pleasure that took over, nearly wiping away the stinging, stretching _ache_ she felt with every thrust. She moaned wantonly, reaching back behind her with her hands.

“You like that, sweetheart?” The man’s voice thrummed in her ear. “You like me touching you there? You like your reward for being good?”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered. “I can be good for you. I can be… I can be good…”

“I know, Vera,” he soothed as he thrusted hard, once, into her. She cried out, a sweat breaking out over her skin. “This is what happens when you’re good. This is what I can do when you’re good for me, sweetheart. When you’re bad, you get days like what I did to you earlier. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No, sir,” she whined. “I can be good. I’ll be good for you.”

“Mmm.” He moaned in her ear. “I can feel you tightening around me, Vera. Are you going to come already?”

Her mouth dropped open as he sucked hard on her neck. She could feel it, too, the shimmering, glowing swell of pleasure rising in her. She didn’t know if it was the shock, or the relief, or if he really did own her body now, but he was coaxing her up into a climax she didn’t even _want._

_I want to come. I want to be good for him, so he doesn’t hurt me again._ She didn’t want to come by his hand, though.

She didn’t have a choice.

He circled her clit with his thumb, speeding up, applying the perfect pressure, touching her like only someone who knew and loved her body could do. She had no doubt he thought both those things were true.

She writhed under him, arched her back up against him, panted as he smoothed his tongue over the red spot he’d sucked into her throat. He laughed. “Good girl, Vera,” he said softly. “Come on my cock. You deserve it, my sweet girl. You deserve this for being so good.”

He rolled his thumb around her clit, bringing her higher, once, twice…

She shuddered and came under him. It was a weak wave of bliss that was over in a second, the pain right on its heels. Worse, for having been fucked again. Raped again. Worse, for having him still inside her, rutting into her.

His sweat smeared on her skin as he worked into her, trembling. _He’s tired, too._

He sunk his teeth into her shoulder as he buried himself into her, spilling what he had left to spill. He groaned and collapsed on top her, panting, sighing. He kissed her softly on the mouth.

“This is what comes of being good, Vera,” he said softly. “When you’re good, I fuck you softly. When you’re good, I let you come.”

She stared at the ceiling as he rolled off her and let her eyes drift shut as he pulled her into his arms. She put her arms back down at her sides and fell back limply to the cot. He nuzzled into her neck and she let him hold her, sucking at her throat, letting his hands wander over her body once more.


	37. Chapter 37

Vera drifted. Asleep, awake, a million miles from here, it didn’t matter. Her body was an assortment of cells and organs, kept in a cage, driving itself around at the man’s request. At the man’s _demand._ Sometimes, she was present for the things he did to her. Sometimes, she was gone, left to try to piece together what happened afterwards from the new bruises and aches to her body. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t even her body anymore. It existed, untethered from her mind. The man in the cell was the only thing holding her body to the earth anymore. Otherwise, it barely existed at all.

She lay on the floor with clothes on for the first time in… days, it must have been. Hours? Maybe a month. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She just cared about the warm long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants providing just that small layer of protection between her skin and the floor. Not that it was her skin anymore. She couldn’t think of a single place the man hadn’t touched her, bruised her. Violated her. She belonged to him. There wasn’t the possibility of anything else, anywhere in her mind.

Was it morning? Or night? Had the man just walked out the door, or had he been gone for hours? Should she be sleeping right now, or simply waiting for him to return? She didn’t know. Distantly, far, far away in her mind, an alarm sounded that _she should know this._ She should _know_ where in time she was. She should be able to remember these things. She didn’t, though. Time was as real as her body was.

She thought she heard the echoes of footsteps coming down the stairs, of voices. It could have been her imagination. Maybe something only she could see or hear. She’d become good at that, hearing the man before he walked in. She’d never been able to hear anything beyond this cell. And yet, she heard him coming. _Them._

There was more than one.

The door opened, slowly. Vera automatically rolled to her knees, not even considering doing anything else. Pain as a consequence was not present in her mind. There _was_ no consequence if she refused, because she would never refuse. Her body belonged to this man.

She kept her head down, peering underneath her lashes to see who had just walked in. It was the man, her captor, the man who hurt her and fucked her daily, now… And two others. They looked vaguely familiar. Maybe she’d seen them before, or maybe she thought of them in a dream. She didn’t know. There were no memories. Only this moment, then the next, then the next.

The man walked to her side, and his hand rested gently in her hair. Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned slightly into the touch. _This doesn’t hurt. This is good. I am being good._

“Oh, sweetheart,” the man crooned, and dropped to one knee in front of her. “Do you know what day it is?”

_He hasn’t given me permission to speak._ She shook her head weakly.

“Hmm. Good girl. Today is Saturday. And we haven’t had a party with you in a month and a half. Can you believe that, Vera? It’s been so long.”

Again, she shook her head. _Didn’t give me permission to speak._

“Good girl. We’re having a party with you today, and I’m going to show you off. I’m going to show my friends what a good girl you’ve become. Are you ready to do that for me? You can speak.”

She cleared her throat. “Yes sir,” she rasped.

The man turned and looked at his friends. “You see? She’s spectacular now.”

One man’s mouth had fallen open. “My god,” he murmured. “You weren’t lying. She’s… God, she’s exquisite.”

“I can show you more.” The man turned back to her and produced a key from his pocket. “Vera, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I’m going to unlock the chain from your collar. And you’re going to be very good for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, a tear sliding down her face.

“Whoa, J—” The other man swallowed. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? I remember she—”

“Yes, Robert,” the man said gently. “I’m sure. I told you. She’s perfect now.”

The man took a step back. “Alright. If you… if you say so. You’re incredible with her.”

“ _She’s_ incredible,” the man said softly. The chain fell away from Vera’s collar. “Stand up, Vera.”

Automatically, robotically, she stood. The lightness of her collar without the chain made her slightly dizzy. She folded her hands in front of her, staring blankly at the floor.

The man stepped away, his gaze moving slowly over her body. “I do have some stipulations about tonight,” he said softly. “I was very rough with her three days ago, and she hasn’t healed properly yet. So… you may not fuck her.”

There was an audible sigh of disappointment from both the other men.

The man laughed gently. “You may still use her mouth, and do all sorts of other things to her. But… she’s been so good. _So_ good. Tonight, I want to _reward_ her. I want to make her feel good. So no beatings, no knives. I need to reinforce this. I need her to understand that when she’s good, she gets to feel pleasure.”

A shiver moved through Vera’s body and her eyes slid shut. When she opened her eyes, they were all staring at her with a lust that made her feel sick.

_“Oh,”_ the other man breathed. She couldn’t begin to remember his name. “Well, I…” He rubbed his hands together. “You know I love it when they _enjoy_ it. Makes it so much better.”

“I know you do, Greg,” the man said with a light laugh. “It’s one of your more interesting quirks.” He turned back to Vera. “Vera, sweetheart… take off your clothes.”

She reached for the hem of her shirt before she’d even realized she’d moved. She pulled the shirt up over her head and dropped it on the floor beside her. She guided her pants off over her hips, and let them fall right next to the shirt. She shivered as she stood pinned under the men’s gazes, completely naked, her body bruised and marked with scars. She held her hands in fists by her sides.

“Gentlemen,” the man said gently. “I recently had this table made—” He gestured at the padded table where he’d strapped Vera down and fucked her over and over days ago. “—for the use of positioning her without the use of suspension. If I could employ your help to bring it into the middle of the room, I think we could all fit around it nicely.”

The other two men nearly tripped over themselves getting to the table. The man smirked and walked over to it. “On three. One, two, three.” The men lifted the table and carried it to the center of the room, directly in front of Vera. She shuddered.

“Vera,” the man said softly, walking to her side. He stroked his fingers gently down her back. “Get on the table, just the way I like you.”

For a moment, her muscles locked in abject terror. Her lips trembled as she pressed them together, tears threatening in her eyes. A tension grew in her like a rubber band being pulled taut, a pressure that rose in her mind of having been given an order and _not following it._ She nodded slowly.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

She used the steps jutting out from the legs of the table to ease her body up onto it, laying herself down on her back. Her legs fell out to the side. She reached her hands up over her head and gripped the rim of the table. A shudder rippled through her and two tears ran into her hair.

“Absolutely _remarkable,_ ” one of the men whispered. “She was a terror, last I saw her.”

“And she’s perfect now, Robert,” the man said softly. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Let’s begin.”

“God, I want to fuck her,” Greg whined. “But… I’ll just use her mouth. Her mouth is fantastic. And… oh, I haven’t had her without the ring gag yet.”

“She’s perfectly safe without it, now,” the man said, laughing. “Absolutely exquisite.”

“Well, I want her to…”

“Tell _her_ what you want, Greg. Her purpose is to obey. Tell _her._ ”

“V-Vera,” Greg said hesitantly, “Move so that your head hangs off the end of the table, and open your mouth.”

“Perfect. And Vera, you can put your arms down for now.”

Numbly, Vera pushed herself up until her head hung off the table. A headache started immediately as the blood flowed to her head. She closed her eyes.

“While you do that, Greg, I…” Vera felt a hand on her clit, and knew it was her captor’s. “I want to put something in her. Something that will pleasure her.”

Vera felt Greg’s cock tap against her face. “Open up, uh, sweetheart,” he said softly above her. She opened her eyes, and her mouth.

Greg pressed himself in, moaning lasciviously as he pushed all the way to the back of her throat. She gagged weakly, and didn’t pull back.

_“Christ,”_ Greg sighed. “It’s always so much better without the ring gag. Her mouth is… fuck, it’s _perfect._ This isn’t going to last long.” He chuckled, and began to thrust into her mouth.

“Here,” her captor said where he stood near her legs. “This will be… just…”

Vera shuddered as something round pressed into her, cool and lubed. She ached as it stretched her, pressing against all the bruises she already had. “Yes. Perfect. And now…”

Vera stiffened and moaned as the thing started to vibrate inside her, right against her G spot.

“Oh, _fuck,_ ” Greg moaned with her. “Do… oh, do that again.”

A laugh. “We can pass around the remote. Remember, I want her to feel pleasure. I want her to come for us, as many times as she wishes.”

The vibrator turned up, and Vera shuddered at the wave of pleasure that broke over her. Greg’s hand fisted in her hair as he fucked harder into her mouth.

“God, she’s… you truly have impeccable taste. She’s the most beautiful creature… _Christ,_ that body. And that _voice._ ”

Vera shuddered at the waves of ecstasy that rolled over her, starting at the spot the vibrator was inside her. Her eyes rolled back and she spread her legs more, desperate to come, revolted by the cock in her mouth.

_He said he wanted me to feel pleasure, and I could keep my arms down._ She reached between her legs and rubbed a slow circle over her clit.

“Ah ah ah, no, sweetheart,” the man chided. “I told you before. You may not touch yourself, because you belong to me. What’s wrong with a little delayed gratification, hm? I’ll let you come. I promise.”

Greg made a few stuttering thrusts into her mouth and came into her throat. She swallowed reflexively, wincing at the angle of her neck. All she knew was that she didn’t want to choke. Greg pulled his cock out of her mouth and stepped back, quivering.

“ _Christ,_ that was good. Uh, Vera, you can um… get more onto the table now.”

She obeyed, automatically, mindlessly. She pushed herself back down the table, lifting her arms and putting them firmly over her head. The man smiled over her.

“My good girl. Now. What she we do with her next?”

“I want to see her in these,” Robert said, holding up a pair of nipple clamps with a tiny chain connecting them. He reached out and twisted her nipples, grinning as they tightened. He clipped one of the clamps to one nipple. She hissed through her teeth at the stab of sensation. His smile widened as he clipped on the other one. Her tongue ran over her teeth as her vision whited out for a moment, the twisting ache of the clamps and the rolling waves of pleasure from the vibrator mixing together in her mind and making her hazy. She licked her lips.

_Would you like to leave?_

Vera almost – _almost_ – had to laugh. _If you would like to leave your body, press 1. If you would like to stay, press 2._ She shivered in her mind, sliding a little into the oblivion that waited for her. _What if I want to stay? They’re making me feel good. They hardly ever make me feel good._

A hand settled over her clit and pressed down.

_This isn’t my body. I don’t have to stay._ She closed her eyes and slipped under.

It was dark, where she was, underground maybe. She could feel men close by, hear their laughter. Their groans of admiration as they touched themselves looking down at her. She thought she might be on the ceiling. She looked around, pictures and sensations sliding through her mind and out before she could even feel them. She felt around for her body, the body she no longer owned, and couldn’t feel it at all. She was elsewhere, right here, somewhere no one could touch her because she didn’t have a body at all. She was a mind, a fractured, broken mind, floating somewhere no one could reach her.

A distant jolt of pleasure rolled through her as the first orgasm broke over her body.

She looked up – or down, maybe it _was_ the ceiling – and saw her body, stretched out on the table, eyes blank, arms up over her head. As her gaze passed over the clamps she vaguely felt the pain, and it faded as soon as she looked away. She thought they might be dripping candle wax on her, the different colors dappling her skin. She blinked, and things were different.

The other one was in her mouth, and she was on her knees on the floor, shuddering. She watched as she rocked forward with another orgasm, her cry muffled by the cock in her mouth.

She wasn’t sure when she was, or where she was, but she was back on the table, another man’s hand against her clit, rubbing vigorously as she cried out. She kept her arms over her head. On the ceiling, Vera shook her head. Shuddered. Felt something like claws in her mind, dragging her back into her own body.

“—pretty limited if we can’t fuck her.”

Her stomach clenched with panic. She didn’t want to come back, _didn’t want to come back._

“Robert, the longevity of my plaything is of the utmost importance. What if we—”

She swept out of her body again, fell back onto the ceiling. She heaved a sigh of desperate relief. Another orgasm distantly rocked through her, like an earthquake miles away.

She didn’t even want to look. She didn’t want to look down from the ceiling and see their hands moving over her, prodding her, pinching her, tugging at the chain clamped to her nipples. She didn’t want to see their hands bobbing slowly over their own cocks as they grinned down at her. She turned her face away so she didn’t have to see. She closed her eyes. She drifted again.


	38. Chapter 38

The door opened and Vera was awake in less than a second. She rolled to her knees and folded her hands together in front of her. She stared blankly at the floor.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” the man said softly, his voice strangely far away. She swallowed against the dryness of her throat. A moment of wondering passed through her, confusion at the sound of his voice. It was gone just as quickly. There was no room for anything but what she felt, what she saw. No room for thoughts. No room for _her._

She felt a hand in her hair and flinched just slightly. Her eyes closed as the fingers tangled through the strands. There was a gentle tug and she obliged him, her head tilting back. She stared right past him, staring at the ceiling.

“Hm,” the man crooned. “Those are healing nicely. Fading. I’ll have to add more today.”

Vera didn’t have the slightest idea what he was talking about. The body wasn’t hers, it was his. She didn’t know what damage he’d done. Did it matter? She was gone. She wasn’t using the body, so he could have it if he wanted.

“Vera,” the man said softly, bending over her. Her eyes flicked to meet his, unfocused. She was swallowed whole in his gaze. Just another part of him. “You’ve been so good for me. So good. Did you know that? Do you know how good you’ve been?”

A slight shake of her head against the hand in her hair. _I don’t know anything._

The man smiled. “You’ve been… _perfect,_ sweetheart. Simply _perfect._ You’re more than just my plaything, Vera, you’re _art._ And I want to introduce you to someone very special today.”

 _Another party._ The thought was gone as soon as it happened.

“I won’t be fucking you with this person today, Vera. It would be a bit… inappropriate.” The man chuckled like he’d just shared an inside joke.

_Nothing is inappropriate. You own my body now. It’s yours. You’ve violated it in every way there is._

“But I want to give you a little test first,” the man said. Vera’s eyelids fluttered for a moment against the burn of her tears. Tests were never good. Tests were impossible tasks, and pain when she couldn’t do them.

 _But I can be good,_ Vera thought with heavy disgust and the slightest bit of pride. _I can be good for you._

“Vera…” A hand went under her chin and cupped it softly. “Get the way I like you.”

The whimper in her throat never even made a sound as she forced it down. _I can be good. I can be good._ She laid down on her back, her body moving as if on strings. There was nothing but obedience. There was nothing but this. She let her legs fall out to the side and put her arms above her head. The chain on the collar clinked as she got into position. She waited for the man to take down the tool, the implement he would use to test her. Punish her. It didn’t matter if she’d been bad, or not. Sometimes there was just punishment, for no reason other than the man liked to hear her scream. And she could scream for him, if he wanted. Or she could be silent. Whatever he wanted. Whatever he desired. She was there for his use.

The man didn’t take down the whip, or the knife, or the cane. Distantly, silently, confusion shivered through her. Then it was gone. _I can be good._

The man knelt over her and straddled her hips. Her skin – _his_ skin, it belonged to _him_ – shuddered as he lowered his weight over her. She still had her clothes on. She knew it would be difficult for him to fuck her like this, and he usually liked her clothes off when he was fucking her. She felt for a moment the ghost of him inside her… hours ago. Or days ago. Minutes ago? Maybe all three. The feeling sharpened to a vicious stab and she gasped. It brought her back to now, where she lay under him. Waiting for him to force his cock into her. Like he always did. Forcing himself into her, forcing her out. She didn’t belong there anyway. He owned the body, she just rented the room every now and then. Except for when she didn’t, and she lived on the ceiling. Back and forth. A jolt of hysterical laughter struck her in the chest and was gone just as quickly. _Like a kid with divorced parents. He’s the dad. Daddy Kink McGee._ Her mind spun. _Where have I heard that before?_

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as his hands went around her throat.

Her eyes flew open – were they already open? She didn’t know – and her mouth fell open in the reflex that had trodden a path through her brain so many times. She gasped in a desperate breath and tried to hold it for when he took her air away. He would do it. He always did. If his hand was around her neck – around _someone’s_ neck, it wasn’t really hers – he was going to take her air away. He liked it. He liked when she thrashed under him. He liked the sounds her throat made.

The man laughed softly. “Oh, sweetheart. Not yet. Breathe. Just breathe.” She did. He spoke the words and the intention filled her body as if it was her own. “Good girl. Just breathe.”

The thought to say ‘yes sir’ never crossed her mind. She hadn’t been given permission to speak. That part of her brain was turned off. Silenced, until he told her she could speak again.

The man leaned over her, pressing his chest against hers. He slowly rolled his hips and groaned at the friction. His hand tightened around her throat. He brushed against her collar with his thumb. It was as much a part of her now as her arm, or her leg.

“Vera,” he breathed, and she swallowed hard. That was what this body was called. She didn’t know if that included her anymore. “Vera, sweetheart.” The man licked his lips. “Kiss me.”

She immediately tilted her head and opened her mouth for his tongue. It slipped in between her lips, pressing against the inside of her mouth. Invading, like everything else. Her mouth was a channel for him to pour his rage into, his lust, his control. Nothing came out of her mouth that he hadn’t put there. Her rules. Her screams.

The man moaned against her as he pressed the kiss deeper, his mouth wide open against hers. She moved her lips against his. It was more than a reflex, deeper. It was carved into every fiber of her being. _Kiss me._

The man pulled back, sucking on her lower lip as he did. She slumped back to the floor, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling. Waiting for the pain.

He pressed down on her throat and took away her air.

A shudder of panic rocked through her, a momentary struggle between her brain and her body. _Get the way I like you._

_But I need to breathe._

_Be good for me, sweetheart._

Her eyes streamed as he pressed down harder, weakly coughing as that reflex took over for a moment. It took every bit of willpower she had to force her arms to stay over her head, to not push him away.

Just as her terror spiked in her body, just as her flesh was about to come alive again and protect her, something else rushed in. _Nothing._ She clung to it desperately, letting it pull her out to sea. Letting it pull her under. His hand was on her throat, and her air was gone, but so was she. He could torture the body on the floor all he wanted. She wasn’t there anymore.

_Vacancy._

_For sale to best offer._

She was vaguely, distantly aware that he’d let go. She choked and gasped in all the air she could take, trembling, panting, sobbing weakly. She heard all of it from far away, saw it as if through the wrong end of a telescope. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking at anymore. Her chest rose and fell, her lungs expanded and released, air moved in and out. This was something he couldn’t take away.

Until he did again. She pulled what little of her was in her body away, disappeared. She couldn’t even see herself anymore. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t need to. That body wasn’t hers. What need did she have for air?

He released her throat. For a moment she rushed back in, desperate for air. Her throat felt like it had been crushed. She convulsed forward, a cry of agony about to burst through her until it stopped short. As if hitting a brick wall.

_He hasn’t given me permission to scream._

“One more time, sweetheart,” he crooned in her ear. She started slightly. She hadn’t even noticed his weight still on top of her, she’d been so torn apart by the pain in her throat. He pressed down.

She went rigid for a moment, then ran away. Disappeared. Wandered out to pasture. This time she completely cut the strings keeping her in that body. She floated away, so far she wasn’t sure how to get back. She didn’t care. It was so much more comfortable being nothing.

She disappeared from the blankness when everything went black.

She found herself in the nothing again, falling into an abyss, spiraling down a drain. She was nowhere, she was nothing…

Until she fell squarely back into her body. She grunted like the impact had been real.

_Did he drop me?_

_No. I just fell back in._

She reached out for the strands of nothing that still floated through her mind, reaching for something she could hold on to as it pulled her back out.

She jolted with abject horror for a moment.

_My hands aren’t up by my head. I disobeyed him. He’s going to hurt me now._

She heaved a dry sob and reached into her arms, sliding back into her body like a hand filling a glove.

Her hands were tied behind her. Her ankles tied together, too.

She didn’t know if she should feel relieved, or more terrified. She wasn’t sure if she’d moved her arms while she was under, or the man tied them there while she was unconscious. Her mouth opened as she whimpered. That’s when she realized she was gagged.

She turned her head to look for her captor. She lay on her side and had to twist her neck to find him. She forced down her groan as her throat screamed at her. The man stood behind her, taking something off the wall. A pair of headphones. The man turned back to face her and sighed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” the man sighed. “I was hoping you’d be out for a few more seconds. Oh, well. At least this way I can explain what I’m going. Though I’m sure you would’ve been good for me either way, hm?”

Vera nodded, tears streaming down her face.

“Good.” He took down a roll of tape, and a cloth bag. Vera shuddered for a moment, then turned off her brain. _No use in wondering._

_Did I pass, or fail?_

“Sweetheart, I’m about to go get someone very important to me and bring him down here. You are going to help teach him how to hurt people, do you understand?”

Vera nodded again. _Maybe someone new to this won’t want to hurt me._

“Good. I want to add an extra challenge for you, and make sure you don’t disobey me while he’s here, alright?” He winked. “I don’t think you would. But… I also just like this idea.” He chuckled good-naturedly. “Here’s what I want you to do for me, Vera.” He took a step closer, then another, then another, walking around her until he stood right in front of her. He crouched down and ran his fingers gently through her hair. “I’m going to bring this person down here and teach him how to hurt you. I want him to know what things cause which reactions, so I give you permission to scream. You’ll be gagged, of course, but you may scream if you wish. I’m going to put these on you…” He held up the headphones. “…and hood you as well. Don’t want you anticipating anything he does. I want everything to be… _natural._ ” The man grinned. Something deep inside Vera pulled back with revulsion.

The man’s hand went under her chin and tilted her head up. “Oh, Vera,” the man sighed. “You are so good for me. You’re mine forever. _God,_ you’re exquisite.” He pulled her face up a pressed a kiss to her mouth, over the gag. “Be good for me, sweetheart.”

The man dropped the headphones over her ears. All the tiny sounds of the room were blotted out in an instant. She watched the man with streaming eyes as he stretched out a long length of tape and wound it several times around her head, taping the headphones in place. Then he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and pulled the bag over her head. He cinched it tight around her throat.

She felt him stand, felt the air move as he walked away. She pushed away the terror that welled in her, terror and something far darker that threatened to consume her if she fell in.

She reached for the nothingness. She reached out into the far corners of her mind, reaching for it, searching with every tendril of her awareness.

The nothing was gone. The nothing was all around her, no sound, no light, no movement. The nothingness was inside her, surrounded by the _no sound no light no movement_ that gripped her body.

There was nowhere to retreat to, because the nothing was gone. Nothing was buried in nothing. She was trapped. There was nowhere to go.


	39. Chapter 39

There’d been strange sounds going on in the house all day. Vera wasn’t sure – was _endlessly_ unsure – if these sounds were happening in her head, or were actually happening in the air and rooms above her. There was a low hum of tension in the house, a deep, rattling noise that reached her even in her cell. She could hear it, but couldn’t bring herself to wonder about it too much. _He’ll come down here and hurt me._ That’s all she knew. That was _all_ she knew.

She lay still, waiting for him. Always waiting. Always hurting, when she lived in her body. That almost never happened now. She was content living somewhere else, or nowhere at all. There wasn’t much room left in her body anymore, anyway. It had all been chipped away, broken, sanded down until there was nothing but her flesh for him to grab and bite, her skin for him to split open, and all the places he liked to fuck her. She didn’t need to be anything else. She didn’t need to be anything at all.

The door opened. She rolled to her knees and folded her hands in her lap.

She kept her eyes on the floor, but watched in her periphery as someone she didn’t recognize slid warily into the room. _Another party._ She bit her lip and blinked once, tears brimming in her eyes.

The person gasped loudly, their hand flying to their mouth. Another person walked in, then another, then another. Two more fell in behind them.

Vera shivered. _I’ve never taken that many before._ She flickered inside her body, here, not. Here, not. She wanted to stay for long enough to figure out what, exactly, these people were going to do to her before she left. Just so she knew. Just to be sure.

Her captor wasn’t among them.

“Oh my… _god,_ ” the one in front whispered. “Oh my… what the _fuck_ …?”

“Um, hey?” another said. Talking to… someone?

“Holy shit. Is she—”

“Oh my god she’s _collared,_ ” another gasped in disgust.

Vera’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but she kept her eyes on the floor. _Were they hoping I’d be loose?_

“Hey, can you, um, talk to us?” another croaked, taking a step forward. Vera slowly raised her eyes to the woman who approached her slowly, hands out to her sides. She had red hair and deep green eyes, wide and horrified as she looked down at Vera.

_Testing me. I can be good._ Vera pressed her lips together as she looked up at the woman. _Please let her see me being good so she doesn’t hurt me._

“I don’t know if she can talk,” the woman said over her shoulder. A man drew up beside her. He was easily a foot taller, broad, with large hands. Vera swallowed hard. _He’s going to hurt._

Someone else joined the woman, and the others began to form a little half circle around Vera. Her eyes moved slowly between them, seeing their faces, measuring what they wanted from her. _That_ one might want her mouth. _That_ one might like to cut her skin. _That_ one might want to hear her scream as he fucked her. _That_ one might want to tie her down and beat her until she lost consciousness.

Something in her twinged in confusion. None of them looked _aroused._ None of them looked _excited._ Their eyes didn’t move over her like they were parsing out cuts of meat at the butcher. Their eyes didn’t linger on her mouth, her breasts, her throat. They all, to a person, looked _horrified._

_Oh, god. I’m not being good._

Her head fell forward and she choked off a whimper. _What are they going to do? I’m not making them happy. He keeps me because it makes him_ happy.

_Where is he?_

The woman with the red hair reached out and brushed her fingers along Vera’s shoulder. “Um, hello?” she said softly. She waited for a response. Vera didn’t give one. She knew this game. She knew she had to be quiet until they gave her permission to speak. She knew she’d have to keep quiet while they tortured her. She just didn’t know why they hadn’t started yet.

The woman shook Vera’s shoulder. “Hello?” she said, a little louder. The woman bit her lip. “Um, can you hear me? Can you nod if you can hear me?”

Vera could do that. She nodded.

The woman pulled her hand back. “Um…”

“Come on, Riona,” the tall man by her side said. “Let’s just… let’s just grab her and go.”

Vera’s heart sank. _Oh. He wants me first._ Tears burned in her eyes. One ran down her cheek.

The woman wrung her hands together and looked at the others. “Guys? Do you, uh… have any ideas?”

Another of the group looked around the room at the tools on the walls. Vera swallowed. _Deciding what they want._ “Um…” they said. “I don’t see any, like… bolt cutters…”

Vera forced down a sob. _Oh, god._

The woman with red hair – Riona, but Vera wasn’t supposed to remember their names – turned back to Vera with tears in her eyes. “Poor thing. Do you think she’s the one that letter talked about?”

“The one from that Ryan guy? Who fucking knows.”

“Let’s go!” another man said, one who hadn’t spoken. He had dark skin, almost black, and a very nice face. _Maybe he’d want me to like it._ “We don’t have fucking time. The others are going to be done with their part soon. Let’s just…” He waved his hand weakly at Vera. “…let’s just figure this out and go.”

“Okay,” the woman with red hair said. “James, do you… um…?”

The tall man pulled a knife out of his pocket. “I’ll just cut it off.”

Vera shuddered and shrank back, her eyes fixed on the knife. _What is he going to cut off what is he going to cut off WHAT IS HE GOING TO CUT OFF?_ She froze and bite down hard on her tongue. _Take all punishments without complaint._

“James…” The woman’s eyes found Vera’s again. “We’re gonna get you out of here,” she whispered to Vera. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

Vera stared at her, dumbfounded. She had absolutely no idea what the woman meant.

“This place gives me the fucking creeps,” another said, with almond-shaped eyes and jet-black hair. They all had nice faces, Vera realized. She didn’t mind looking at them the way she did looking at the other men who came in here.

“Do you think Stormbeck… do you think he… _uses these_ on her?” a woman hissed, shivering, with light blonde hair. Her eyes flicked between the tools and Vera.

“Why is she even here?” another whimpered, tears streaming down their face.

Vera couldn’t keep track of it all. It was too confusing. Why were they upset?

The man with the knife approached Vera and reached for her collar. “Let me just get this off you,” he murmured. He held the knife to her throat. Vera closed her eyes.

She felt the cold blade against her throat. She shivered, waited. Waited for the pain, the blood.

“Fuck me,” the man whispered. “She’s been wearing this for a long time. Her throat’s a fucking mess.”

“How long do you think she’s been here?” another asked.

“That letter was postmarked over two months ago.”

“Oh my god… you mean if we found it sooner…?”

“Useless to speculate. We’re here now. For fuck’s sake, James, just cut it off.”

The man’s hand shook on her collar. “Look at her,” he whispered.

Vera wanted, desperately, for them to like what they saw.

“Look, she’s… she’s just…” Vera cracked her eyes open and saw the man’s face just in front of hers. His hands were still on the collar, and the knife. Shaking. “She’s just… _sitting_ there.”

“She’s probably scared out of her mind.” The man with the black hair again. “James… for fuck’s _sake,_ James, we gotta go.”

“C-can’t leave her here,” James murmured. He hooked the knife under the collar and began to cut.

Vera dragged in a choked gasp and jerked away from the man. The knife clattered to the ground as she shoved herself backwards and away from him. _NEVER TAKE OFF THE COLLAR._

“Whoa, did you cut her?”

“No! She just… Look, ma’am… we’re just here to help…”

“We _need to go._ I’ll help you hold her.” Three of them descended on her.

_“NO!”_ she screamed, her voice twisted like a broken thing. “No, _please!_ ”

Hands pushed her to the floor and held her. “We’re just trying to help!”

“No no no _no no no no NO NO NO NO NO!_ ” She sobbed and writhed under their hands. “No!”

“Fucking hell. What’s wrong with her?”

“We scared her! Come on, let’s get that collar off and we can get her out.”

She twisted her arm out of someone’s grip and threw a punch. She felt it graze someone’s body. She was forced onto her belly, her hands forced behind her.

“ _Shit!_ Reuben, grab… fuck, this is so fucked up, but grab those handcuffs off the wall.”

_“NO!”_ she shrieked. She felt the cold metal click onto her wrists. Her mouth fell open in a desperate wail.

“Oh my god…”

She had one thing she could do. _“Never speak without permission never sleep or eat without permission never scream without permission take all punishments without complaint never take off the collar!”_ She didn’t know what these people wanted, but Vera could give them her rules.

“Fuck, what the _fuck_ …”

She tried again. _“NEVER SPEAK WITHOUT PERMISSION NEVER SLEEP OR EAT WITHOUT PERMISSION NEVER SCREAM WITHOUT PERMISSION TAKE ALL PUNISHMENTS WITHOUT COMPLAINT NEVER TAKE OFF THE COLLAR!”_

“I think that’s shit he made her say, what the _fuck_ …”

“This is so fucked up.”

The knife went back to her collar. She twisted her head and bit down hard on the man’s hand. He screamed and jerked back, the knife falling to the floor again. She didn’t care if she’d be punished for that. All she knew was that she _couldn’t take off the collar._

“Fuck!” the man screamed. “Fucking _hell!_ ”

“Dude, she’s too far gone. We can’t take her with us.”

“Are you fucking kidding? What the fuck is wrong with you, you want to just _leave_ her like this?”

“I mean—”

“Look, there… there’s like, a cloth thing on the wall. We just gag her with it, just until we get her calmed down. Okay?”

_“NEVER SPEAK WITHOUT PERMISSION NEVER SLEEP OR EAT WITHOUT PERMISSION NEVER SCREAM WITHOUT PERMISSION TAKE ALL PUNISHMENTS WITHOUT COMPLAINT NEVER TAKE OFF THE COL—”_ Vera was cut off as they gently worked the gag into her mouth and tied it behind her head.

She started to drift, just a little. There was a knife at her throat, handcuffs on her wrists, a gag in her mouth… this was… this was _normal._ This was _familiar._ It wasn’t safe, but as close as she got to it. Pain would come soon, but then, it always did.

Then the knife went back under her collar and she was gripped by panic again.

The people around her jumped onto her, pinning her to the floor, as she twisted and screamed through the gag. _THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND. THEY CAN DO WHATEVER THEY WANT BUT THEY CAN’T TAKE THE COLLAR OFF. PLEASE JUST CUT ME, PLEASE JUST BEAT ME OR TIE ME DOWN OR FUCK ME I DON’T CARE BUT PLEASE DON’T TAKE OFF THE COLLAR NEVER TAKE OFF THE COLLAR._

The knife cut slowly through the leather. The man with the knife sweat as he worked, blood dripping from his hand onto the floor, making the handle of the knife slippery. He nearly lost his purchase as he cut through the leather. He nicked her shoulder with the blade and he gasped.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

The pain warmed her. She fought harder.

“I’m almost done,” he ground out through his teeth. “Almost there… _fuck._ Thank god.”

The collar came away. Vera’s stomach dropped and she convulsed in a wail.

“That’s it! Let’s go. Come on. Get her up. Yeah, let’s… we can just carry her. It’s fine. Yeah, get her legs. Watch out, she might kick.”

All the fight rushed out of Vera like a plug in her body had been pulled. She slumped in the people’s hands, limp, sobbing like her heart was being torn out. They lifted her off the floor and moved quickly to the door.

She struggled weakly, pleading through the gag for them to leave her there, let her go, please please _please_ just let her go. She could put the collar back on, hold it to her throat until her captor came back, beg and beg and _beg_ for forgiveness once he let her speak. Take any punishment he felt the need to deal out because she must never take off the collar and it was _gone_ and her neck was lighter than it had ever been and she had been _bad._

The group dragged her out the door. She threw a final look behind her at the room that was her life – was her _whole life,_ she’d never been anywhere or anything else – and saw her collar lying on the floor. Cut. Mangled. It belonged on her throat, and it was gone. She keened weakly as the door closed.

The people half-carried her up the stairs. She could walk now. If that’s what they wanted, she would do it. They were taking her away, taking her away from the man who hurt her and fucked her and called her a good girl. Maybe she belonged to them now, to do with as they pleased. She coughed through the gag and wailed as they marched her down the long hallway. She stumbled as they pulled her along. She hadn’t walked this far in… in…

She shoved that thought away. She’d never walked farther than the distance she could walk with the chain on her collar.

All around her, the house was burning. Little fires against the walls, burning the drapes, licking along the wood floor. The place smelled like gasoline. Furniture was broken, art torn from the walls and lying twisted and destroyed on the ground. Vera’s head spun. She could barely breathe through her tears.

The people taking her were met by another group that dashed out of a side hall. Their eyes all went to Vera, went wide with horror. Some gasped. One burst into tears and began sobbing hard.

“She’s really fucked up,” the tall man at her right said. “She’s like… brainwashed, or something. We need to go.”

“Why is she gagged?” asked a man with warm brown skin and tears in his eyes.

The tall man held up a bleeding hand. “Bit me. Look, she doesn’t know we’re here to help her. We just have to… get her out, calm her down. Explain. Okay? Let’s just go. Jameson has the cars ready?”

“Yeah, they’re right outside. James…” The man staring at her turned his gaze to the tall man. “…is she…?”

“Think so,” the tall man grunted. “Come on. Let’s just… Please. I’ll tell you everything in a minute.”

“Y-yeah.”

The people from the other group joined the ones holding Vera and they all dashed for the doors in front of them. Two ran ahead and burst through the doors, holding them open for the rest of them. The tall man and the woman with red hair led Vera through the doors and down the steps. Vera blinked in the sudden light, so bright she could barely keep her eyes open. The sun was warm on her face.


End file.
